


What Once Was Mine

by ClockworkDragon



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Elements, Singing, Tangled AU, also the rape and underage warnings are only referenced in the story, but no actual exy, but the violence tag is important, exy references, its not all bad i swear, like none of it actually happens its just spoken about, there will be alot of it, this is a pretty dark fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDragon/pseuds/ClockworkDragon
Summary: Neil's life has been anything but normal. His birth was unnatural, his childhood a mixture of blood and darkness. His youth was spent on the run, with no place safe for him to stay too long. It was only recently that he had been able to live in quiet solitude, hidden from the world in his lonely tower. It all basically goes back to shit when a short, dangerous man breaks his window and offers him a deal. With his tower no longer safe, Neil finds himself once again having to run in order to survive.





	1. Mother Knows Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally built up the courage to write my first aftg fic, and oh man...it's a big one. I am not the best with long projects because I tend to lose my drive after awhile, but I couldn't keep this idea in my brain any longer, SO I GUESS I'M DOING THIS. Welcome to my Rapunzel/Tangled inspired AU, complete with romance, murder and magical hair. I'll level with you all, this thing is dark, I'm talking Grimm. I'll post chapter warnings so no one is surprised, but believe me when I say that I won't skimp out on the details. Also, as of right now I don't have a schedule for updating (hopefully I'll get there soon).  
> Thank you to my awesome beta readers [@thefoxycourt ](https://thefoxycourt.tumblr.com) and [@breath-of-night ](https://breath-of-night.tumblr.com)!! That's all for now, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

In the dream he was running. At first he was not aware that he was dreaming, because all he ever did while he was awake was run. For nearly half his life he had moved from town to town, country to country, always looking over his shoulder, yet never looking back. His life was that of prey; constantly hunted and never safe. Fear, paranoia and mistrust were ever present in his mind. It was the absence of these feelings that made him realize he was still asleep.

His dream self was running down a path, and though he did not smile, there was a deep sense of contentment surrounding him. As he ran, the scenery changed. Thick forest blurred into open fields, which turned into mountain paths. He blinked and opened his eyes to a beach, breathed and was suddenly passing over a bridge into an unfamiliar town. 

The rapidly changing landscape was not what caught his attention though, since he had seen countless sights over the years. What surprised him the most was his own lack of urgency. Though he was running, there was no pressure to escape, no voice in his head urging him to _move faster,_ _hurry up,_ or hand in his hair pulling him along. He felt like he had all the time in the world. He felt...free.

The concept of freedom was as foreign to him as it was unattainable. Someone like him would never taste it, and the fact that his mind was trying to fabricate it just hurt him that much more. He could not dream of freedom, could not even think to hope for it. After all, he had learned to stop hoping a long time ago.

The dream became too painful to experience. He did not want to see something he could never have, could not deal with the aching want within him. 

He forced himself awake. 

He opened his eyes to angry grey skies and the sharp smell of distant lightning. Beneath him, the ship groaned as the sea became restless and the waves grew high. A storm was coming, and a bad one at that.

“I was about to wake you, Alexander.”

Alexander turned so that his back was no longer pressed to his mother's. Elizabeth Pent (which wasn’t her real name) sat facing the bow of the ship, calculating eyes trained on the dark horizon. Her long, ink-dyed hair was tied away from her face, but the strong winds had torn some pieces loose. Alexander tugged at his hood to make sure his own hair was completely hidden.

He looked around quickly, taking in the frantic bustle of the crew as they shouted and rushed to secure sails and knot ropes. The other passengers were huddled by the rails a few paces away from him, their expressions anxious. Beyond them, in the distance just within sight was a smudge of black coast.

“What's going on?” Alexander asked, “It's too soon to make land. We should still have two days of sea travel.”

His mother finally looked at him, but he wished she hadn't. She looked tired and angry, but worst of all was the fear. He had not seen such bleak fear in her eyes since  _ that  _ night.

“The captain said a storm will be upon us within the hour. It will be brutal and we risk losing the ship if we don’t make port immediately. We are to make an emergency stop.”

Alexander frowned. Emergency stop? They were nowhere near the coast, which was the reason his mother had chosen this ship in the first place. The route ensured they would be well away from the mainland and would make no stops along the way to the Redcrest Islands. The only possible land mass close to them was―

Oh. Oh  _ no. _

_ “ _ We're making port at Ryuu Island?” Alexander did not shout or let his panic seep into his tone. To anyone else it would have simply sounded curious. “But isn't that―?”

“Yes, Alexander. We will be stopping on Moriyama land.” She said it as if she could not care less where they ended up. Meanwhile Alexander felt his heart beat to the speed of a hummingbird's wing.

By the time the ship docked the rain had begun and the sky was black. As the crowd of travellers hastily made their way off the dock in the hopes of finding cheap shelter from the storm, Alexander tried not to flinch at every person on the streets. He knew, logically, that Ryuu Island was half a day’s voyage from the mainland, and that the Moriyama Kingdom used it as a hub for sea trade rather than a military outpost. There would be soldiers, but the chances of him running into the particular group of them that would be able to recognize him and his mother were low. Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. The pinched look on his mother’s face was less than reassuring.

She grabbed his wrist when he nearly slipped on the wet cobblestones of the road, and tightened her hand, pressure bruising, in a silent reprimand for his carelessness. Alexander accepted it without a wince. After years of running, he had lost every clumsy thing about him, the need to be constantly sure-footed beaten into him.  _ “There are countless people in this world that you need to be able to escape from. Even the tiniest mistake will cost you. Don’t ever trip again.”  _ Alexander had learned that lesson at the age of nine. 

They made their way past taverns and inns, their heavy cloaks failing to keep out the chill when they were so saturated with rain. Alexander knew his mother didn’t want to stop, that she wanted to find a boat that would take them off the island immediately. He also knew that no sailor in their right mind would go out into this storm. 

“Hey, you two there!” Alexander felt his heart jump into his throat. Beside him, his mother tensed. They both turned to see a short woman waving from the doorway of an inn, backlit by the warm glow of lamplight. “I have some rooms for the night if you need any. Not much sense in travelling in this hellish weather.”

It took his mother only a few seconds to weigh their options, which weren’t many, and decide to take the stranger up on her offer. Alexander was instantly grateful that she did. The inn was dry and warm, and in a matter of minutes Alexander had his hands around a mug of hot cider and a plate of grilled fish to go with it. He watched his mother pay for a night and make polite conversation with the short woman, who likely owned the place.

Once he had eaten some of the food, and snuck some bread rolls into his pockets, he followed his mother up the creaky stairs to their room. It was routine from there. Alexander made sure the room was clear while his mother left to check all the exits. Alexander tested the window and found that it opened without a sound. He looked down to the alley below; the distance was enough to hurt, but the risk of a broken leg was minimal if he jumped right. His mother came back a moment later and briefed him on the floorplan of the inn. Afterwards, they huddled together on the lumpy bed and listened to the wind whip the rain against the window. Alexander clutched at the knife under his pillow and tried to sleep.

  
  


When his mother woke him it was still dark outside, but the rain had stopped. Silently, they slung their packs over their shoulders and crept down the hall. There were no patrons up at this hour, and when they reached the main floor the only sounds that could be heard were the clattering of pots from the kitchen as the cooks prepared breakfast. The thought of food made Alexander aware of his own hunger, and he wished to stay to at least eat before they left.  But every minute they had was precious, and danger could appear at any moment.

As they neared the door, his mother whispered for him to stay close. They were too at risk and couldn’t afford to make any mistakes while they remained on this island.

It turned out they wouldn’t even get the chance.

His mother opened the inn door and came face to face with Lola Malcolm. For an indeterminate amount of time, no one breathed. Then, Lola’s eyes widened, but before the recognition could completely sink in, Elizabeth Pent punched her squarely in the teeth. She grabbed the stunned woman and bashed her head against the doorframe. The next thing Alexander knew, he was running down the street, his mother’s biting order of  _ ‘faster’  _ harsh at his side. Alexander was painfully aware that Lola probably had survived her head trauma. She wouldn’t stay down for long. 

He was right.

Too soon the streets came alive with the pounding of uniformed feet and the condemning toll of the alarm bell. 

The next hour passed in a blur where Alexander was only aware of dim alleyways, rooftops, and the beating of his frantic heart. They managed to evade the swarm of soldiers for so long because of their experience in...well, evasion. However, the port town was too small, and their enemies too many for it to have lasted. Eventually, Alexander found himself running up a dirt path towards an old lighthouse, his mother was only a few paces behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that their pursuers were just minutes away from catching up.

Alexander could still run, he’d run until he dropped down from exhaustion if he had to. The problem was, he had nowhere  _ left  _ to run. The path ended at the lighthouse. They either had to turn back (horrible idea), make a stand (equally horrible) or make use of the cliff at their back and just end it all. His mother seemed to be thinking the same, because she pushed him towards the cliff roughly. Alexander couldn’t fault her for her decision; the likelihood of them surviving the fall and the currents was much too low, but even if they didn’t, a quick death from the ocean was massively better than the alternative.

They could hear the clatter of armour as Lola and her soldiers grew closer. His mother squeezed his shoulders tightly―in fear or desperation, he didn’t know― as she told him to take a deep breath and not let go of her cloak,  _ no matter what.  _

He could only nod and grip her sleeve, knuckles white with the force of his hold.

The last thing he heard as they plummeted off the cliff’s edge was Lola’s furious shriek. 

They hit the water like a bag of flower might hit a brick wall. Alexander struggled to hold his breath and not lose his death grip on his mother. He tried to orient himself and find the surface, but the force of the waves was too great, and he was spinning, spinning. Then, all at once, it grew too much. Alexander wondered if the air held in his lungs was the last he’d ever breathe. It was his last thought before he blacked out.

 

\----------------------

 

The burning in his chest was the first sign that he was alive. With it came the realization that he was lying on a flat surface, rocking gently from side to side. A boat. 

For one glorious moment, Alexander entertained the idea that the storm had been just another nightmare, and that he was still on the passenger boat headed to the Redcrest Islands. He knew the thought was a lie, just as he himself was a lie. 

Opening his eyes, Alexander saw that he was, indeed on a boat, though a much smaller one. The only people aboard were himself, his mother, and an older man with a white, curly beard. Alexander attempted to sit up, body aching all over from his fall into the ocean, but nothing seemed to be hurt too bad. He looked over to his mother, who was propped up against some nets and ropes. She looked pale, and had one hand pressed against her ribs, but her eyes were ever-alert, which meant she was not about to drop dead.

“What happened?” Alexander rasped. He coughed a bit, and was handed a tin with some water by the old man. The cool liquid felt amazing on his parched tongue. His mother flicked her gaze to the stranger, which meant her answer would be a truth concealed with a lie.

“You passed out from exhaustion after we had been drifting in the ocean for hours. Do you remember the shipwreck?”

Alexander nodded. So that was the story she had come up with.

“We seem to be the only ones alive, or at least the only ones found since the storm. This kind fisherman was out early and was lucky to come across us. He saved us and offered to take us to where we need to go.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alexander said, playing his part, “I don’t want to think of what would have happened to us if you hadn’t come along.”

“Don’t worry about it, lad. Now, where is it you folks need to be?”

Alexander was only mildly surprised when his mother told the fisherman to take them to the mainland. Since they could not return to their ship at Ryuu Island, there was no way for them to continue on to the Redcrest Islands like they had planned. The only option left was to sail to the mainland and pray that they won’t be discovered before they can arrange transport out of the country. The fisherman was hesitant to agree at first, because it would take them at least five hours to get there, but Alexander’s mother only had to slip him a few gold coins to silence his complaints.

Alexander spent most of the trip dozing and resting his sore body. Despite the magnitude of the storm the night before, the sky remained clear and blue the entire time. However, the good weather did nothing to ease his nerves because it meant that Lola was probably sending a literal fleet out to search for them.

It was noon by the time the coast appeared on the horizon, and it was then that his mother looked at him significantly. Alexander cleared his throat.

“Hey, Mr. Fisherman, what’s that over there?” he pointed vaguely at the ocean by the back of the boat. 

“Huh? What are you talking about, lad?”

Distracted by searching where Alexander hand pointed, the old fisherman did not see the oar that his other passenger swung at his head. Before the old man even hit the deck, Alexander was moving to readjust the sails. His mother stepped over the unconscious body, and moved to the helm to change their heading. The fishing boat was not made to travel long distances across the ocean, so they couldn’t use it to go too far, but they could use it to take them past the main ports of the Moriyama Kingdom. They’d find a hidden beach or cove somewhere, ditch the boat and move on.

Alexander worked for another hour under the commands of his mother. They both had decent knowledge about sailing from their time spent living on various islands. Fishing was a major trade and so, Alexander had learned his way around a ship. He had needed to blend in, after all.

Finally, they had sailed far enough from the main ports that they could chance making land. Alexander’s mother brought them close to shore before rigging the wheel to remain still. They jumped overboard and swam for shore, while the fisherman and his boat headed back in the direction they came. 

Alexander had just wrung out the water from his hood when he heard his mother gasp. He whipped around, hidden dagger in his hand, and searched for trouble. He was confused to see only his mother, struggling to stand. Alexander was at her side in an instant. He flung her arm around his shoulders and helped support her.

“Mom, what is it? Are you hurt?”

He could see that she wanted to brush off whatever injury she had, but it was clearly bad enough to be bothering her. 

“I hit a rock when we fell into the sea. Probably bruised my ribs.”

“Shit,” Alexander muttered. “Should I take a look?”

“Nothing you can do. Keep moving.”

It was easier said than done. Even with Alexander taking half her weight, they were still too slow. Not to mention that they were completely out in the open. In the end, they only made it a couple miles before she collapsed. 

Alexander watched her cough once, twice, onto the sand. He saw the blood drip from her mouth, heard the wheeze in her breathing, and he knew that she had lied to him. He forced her onto her back and ripped open her shirt. It was hideous. There was a massive black bruise stretching from her lower left ribs to her sternum. Alexander could see at least two of her ribs were snapped, the broken ends pushing at her skin but not able to pierce through. 

“You’re dying.” 

Alexander was at once aware of what that meant. Panic overtook him and his hands moved without him meaning for them to. He undid his cloak and threw it into the sand, his tunic following it a second later. His mother’s hand shot out to stop him from unwinding his hair from where it was wrapped around his torso in a long, golden braid.

“Don’t even think about it,” his mother warned.

“Mom, please, let me heal you,” Alexander begged. He knew he wasn’t supposed to use his magic. It had been the first rule his mother had set the night she took him and fled the kingdom. He could never again use the power of his hair, it was too much of a risk. Over the years, though they had gotten sick and cut and bruised, they had never relied on it. Not once. But Alexander couldn’t care less about the rules right now. His mother was dying, and damn him if he didn’t try to save her. “There is no one around to see. I can help you!”

“No!” The force with which she uttered that single word caused her to cough again. When she regained her composure she lay back and sighed. Alexander couldn’t look her in the eye. He didn’t understand why she was being so stubborn. He clenched his hands in his lap and silently hated her for it.

“Listen,” she rasped. More blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.  _ Punctured lung,  _ Alexander thought numbly. She shook him roughly. “Abram, dammit, listen to me.”

When he finally found the courage to look her in the eye, he almost flinched at the heat he found there. She looked fierce and terrified and defiant all at once.

“Abram you need to promise me something. No―don't speak. I can't take care of you anymore. You only have yourself now. So don't stop running. Don't trust anyone. And do not, under any circumstances, use your hair. Promise me.”

He hesitated. He didn't want to be left alone. He needed her. His mother was the only companion he ever had. He wouldn’t―couldn’t survive without her. 

As if she could read his thoughts, “Abram, you  _ must  _ survive. Remember everything I've taught you. Now, promise me.”

“I promise.” The words cut him on the way out.

His mother took a few more ragged breaths before she left him alone for good.

Numbly, Alexander closed her unseeing eyes. He did not allow himself to pause and grieve. He had to move quickly because it would be sundown soon. He stripped her of her pack, looked through it, and shoved the food, bandages, matches and gold into his own. 

He dug a grave.

It took a while, but he managed.

Lastly, after some debate, Alexander unclasped the locket from around his mother’s neck. It was her only personal possession. It was a small, tarnished thing, but Alexander could not remember ever seeing her without it. He pocketed it, and told himself he was keeping it to sell in an emergency and not for sentimentality.

That done, Alexander lay out his mother’s body in preparation. Her clothes were still a bit damp, so Alexander emptied their bottle of whiskey all over her. He could buy another later. 

He struck a match.

He counted to ten, then dropped it on her chest. 

Flames licked at her shirt and expanded outwards, as if her heart had ignited and burst. He lit four more matches to help the fire along. Even with the alcohol, he doubted the fire would get very hot. The process might take a while. Alexander sat facing the waves, his mother’s burning corpse at his back. He stared at the horizon and didn’t feel much of anything at all.

Hours later, after the sun had set and he had buried his mother’s remains, Alexander came back to himself. Up until then, he had been moving on instinct alone, not really aware of his body’s movements. Somehow he had made it off the beach and onto a dirt road with scraggly trees lining it on either side. He became aware of his hunger, and the pain in his legs and back from walking for so long. He was exhausted and afraid and alone.

For the first time in his life he was unsure of his next move. Did he head north to one of the other kingdoms on the continent? Should he leave the continent all together and head west? Disappear into the Eastern Mountains? His mother had told him to keep running but she failed to tell him  _ where.  _

He missed her.

All at once his subdued emotions exploded in his chest. The grief was strongest. It flexed its cold claws around his heart and squeezed the tears from his eyes. Anxiety and fear followed, and they were so blindingly oppressive that his knees gave out. He curled into a ball and tried to cry away his pain and stress and grief. Eventually he tired himself out. The numbness was back so he decided to take advantage of it and get some sleep. He crawled towards the nearest tree and propped himself against it.

He was about to close his eyes when he heard a soft chirping sound. He looked around wearily, trying to find the source. There on the ground, not five feet away from him, was a small bird, a baby of some kind; its body covered in juvenile feathers. One of its wings seemed to be injured, but it's desperate calls for help were not answered. Alexander watched it for nearly an hour, even going so far as to move farther away from it, in the hopes that the parent bird might show up. None did.

Alexander could sympathize, and in that moment he made a decision, the first since his mother had died. He approached the bird carefully, and with the utmost care, he cupped it in his hands and lifted it from the ground. The bird, frightened, began to chirp madly.

“Hey, shh, none of that. All the predators will hear you and you’ll be dead in a heartbeat,” he cooed. “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. We are the same, you see. We’re scared, weak, and alone in this world.”

Alexander stroked the bird’s head gently. It had stopped chirping, and instead it watched him curiously. He sighed.

“I’m losing it. I’m talking to a bird. Worse, I’m projecting my feelings onto said bird.” Alexander leaned his head against the tree and tried to find some of his sanity in the canopy of leaves above him. They were not very helpful. Then he felt a pinch on his thumb. He looked down to see the bird trying to fit his thumb in its beak. Alexander huffed out a laugh. “That’s not a worm. Shit, do you know anything?” 

Alexander yawned. He really did need to get some sleep. He would tackle his life problems tomorrow. Carefully, he pulled a spare tunic from his pack with one hand and arranged it so that there was a dip in the middle. He placed the bird in the dip and put the sleeve of the tunic on top. He curled himself around the makeshift nest and prayed his body heat would keep it warm through the night. Alexander closed his eyes and slept.

Of course, having a peaceful sleep would be asking for too much. The nightmares hit with full force. He saw Lola, smile sharp and lips red. He saw his mother, still alive but burning. Then he was drowning in the ocean, being pulled down by currents that felt too much like hands. The nightmare changed, and he knew somehow, that these next images were twisted memories. They were too familiar to be fiction. He was in his mother’s arms and they were on a horse. Behind them, shadows shaped like bloodhounds pursued them. His mother’s gloves were stained with red. They rode through a forest where the trees whispered and mocked. He knew that they were lost, trapped. The shadows were almost upon them―

Gasping, Alexander woke up. It took him only a moment to remember where he was because he was used to waking up in strange places. He looked down at his tunic, and was relieved to see that the bird had made it through the night. Quickly, limbs filled with new purpose, he fashioned a sling around his shoulders for the bird to ride in. Then, he took some bandages and secured the injured wing as best he could. He knew nothing about birds and nearly nothing about proper medical procedures, but it looked alright and that would have to do. After taking out a piece of dried ham and some nuts for breakfast, he threw his pack on and started down the road. He offered the bird the nuts, but it seemed to be more inclined toward the ham. Probably a hunter of some sort, then.

“Don’t worry little guy, I’ll find you more food. There’ll be plenty on the way,” he murmured. “Lucky for us, my nightmare reminded me of a place we can stay until I decide what to do next. Only problem is, I don’t know where exactly it is...or where we are right now. My map is kind of waterlogged.”

_ Chirp _

The continuous grind of wheels on dirt made Alexander flinch and jump for the cover of bushes. A single wagon was making its way down the road. It looked to be transporting grain. There was only one horse and one driver. It was a low risk and high reward situation. He’d take a chance. He double checked that his hood was up and that his sling was secure. Gathering his wits, Alexander―no, he needed a new identity now, a new name―stumbled into sight. The wagon immediately slowed. 

“Excuse me, ma’am!” he yelled, waving his arm frantically. She pulled up to a stop beside him. “Oh, thank goodness you came along! I’m lost, you see. It's my first time travelling on my own, and I’m afraid I may have taken a wrong turn!”

“Oh dear,” the woman said, “where are you headed, young man?”

“I was supposed to meet my mother at Exy Pass.” It was a gamble, the memories from his childhood were blurry at best, but he was relatively sure that his mother had gone there with him before.

“Well then, you’re in luck. That isn’t too far from here,” she said kindly, before eyeing him critically. He tried not to squirm. “Still, pretty far if you’re walking it, though. Want a lift?”

He weighed his options. He could simply ask her for directions and remain off the popular paths, he was less likely to see people that way. Then again, he wanted to get to the safehouse as soon as possible, and the woman did not seem threatening.

His mother would have declined.

“That would be super helpful, ma’am,” he accepted.

She gestured to the empty bench seat next to her, “Climb aboard…?”

“Neil. My name is Neil.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Claire.”

Claire turned out to be the daughter of a wheat farmer. She was running deliveries, something she liked to do because she enjoyed the solitude. Neil made up some story about himself, but generally steered the conversation towards her. At noon, they stopped to eat. Claire gave him an apple and he gave her some dried ham. She eventually noticed his feathered companion, and they traded ideas on what kind of bird it could be. All the while Neil didn't trust her one bit. By mid afternoon, they were pulling into a small town. Claire greeted various people and Neil tried to keep his friendly, innocent mask in place. 

“Alright, Neil, Exy Pass is just five miles away after you climb that hill.” 

“Thank you, Claire, you were a great help,” Neil smiled. He jumped off the wagon and almost took a step before Claire called for him to wait.

“I almost forgot, Exy Pass is bordered by this massive forest on one side. Whatever you do, don't step off the pass. No one who ever goes in that forest comes back out.” She said it so seriously that Neil almost believed her. The thing was, he had been to that forest before. He thanked Claire and hurried on, keeping an eye out for any soldiers.

As he walked, he turned Claire’s words over in his head. Something about them rang familiar. He was almost positive that it was the same forest from his nightmare. The safehouse was hidden there, in a place where everyone was too scared to trespass. Well, almost everyone. Neil picked up his pace. Soon he would have a place to rest and lie low. The thought was his only comfort after the events of the previous day.

Neil made it to Exy Pass by late afternoon. True to Claire's word, there was an old, creepy looking forest on one side. The other side was all steep cliffs leading to the ocean. Neil stayed clear of that side, he'd had enough of cliffs for a lifetime. For a while, he walked with his feet on the pass and his eyes on the trees. Then, something about the trees looked different. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was not a physical difference. Neil was thinking they  _ felt  _ different, but that raised a lot of concerning questions. One didn't just feel trees.

Still, something seemed to beckon him forwards. Neil had to enter at some point, so he took a deep breath, clutched his pack close, and stepped into the forest. When nothing jumped out at him or made him feel like he was in danger, he proceeded to go deeper. A minute later, he looked over his shoulder, but the pass was nowhere in sight.The forest  _ looked _ just like any other forest, but there was definitely something about this one that had Neil's hair standing on end. It felt ancient and....powerful. It was also eerily silent. Even so, Neil pressed onward. There was no point in turning back, if all the superstitions were true.

Neil was so caught up in the odd aura of the trees that he nearly missed it. And it was a hard thing to miss.

There, partially hidden by massive willow trees, stood a tall, ancient looking tower. It was made of pink-gray stone and had no windows on its body. The keep was wide and circular, the roof a pointed cone of gleaming glass. Neil remembered it. This was the place his mother had hidden them during their first months as runaways while they had made a plan. 

It only made sense that he use it for the same reason once again. Chin high, Neil moved with determination towards the tower. He would do as his mother had said; he would find a way to keep on living.

He was going to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I'm constantly trying to improve my writing, so any questions, comments and criticisms are welcome!  
> Come say hi to me on tumblr: [@c-dragon-pirates ](c-dragon-pirates.tumblr.com)


	2. Guess I Always Knew This Day Was Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter 2 is here! Get ready for some short angry boys! 
> 
> Chapter warnings: Aaron's homophobia, violence

“Ugh, can we like, take a break now? We've been riding for  _ hours.  _ My butt hurts, and not in the fun way!”

“Fucking hell, Nicky, can you keep those gross comments to yourself? No one wants to be reminded of what happens to your ass whenever Eric visits.”

“He doesn't need to be here for stuff to happen to my ass,” Nicky shot back smartly, “and you're just bitter because you aren't getting any at all.”

Aaron scowled but had nothing to say in reply. Instead he turned his anger on Kevin, who had been doing his best to tune out the entire conversation. 

“This is all your fault. I don't understand why we couldn't just let Matt go pick up the order like usual.”

“Matt doesn't know how to identify high quality metals. I don't want to end up having to work with sub par materials because of his inadequacies.” Kevin didn't shift his gaze from the road ahead of them as he spoke. 

“Fuck, you are so pretentious. Matt can read! You could have just given him a list like the rest of us! Or sent Seth if you were so concerned!”

“Seth is a fool of a blacksmith and wouldn't know decent steel if I skewered him with it,” Kevin hissed. “Besides, you didn’t have to come with us.”

“Why don't you tell that to my charming brother?” Aaron seethed.

Andrew found this argument to be old and therefore boring. Aaron and Nicky had learned their place long ago, and Kevin should know by now that wherever they went, the others followed. Evidently, Kevin was a slow learner.

“Andrew can we take a break?  _ Please?”  _ Nicky whined.

Andrews fingers twitched around his reins. “You know how I feel about that word.” Nicky flinched, clearly recognizing the warning in his voice. Perhaps Kevin wasn't the only slow one. “We won't stop.”

Nicky probably thought Andrew denied him out of spite, but the truth was they were only a half hour out from their destination. Andrew guided his horse down the dusty road and quietly hated the slow pace he had set for them. For a brief moment, he thought about urging his mare into a reckless gallop, one he knew she could handle with ease. She was built for speed, thrived when she was given the chance to race freely. Andrew had paid a pretty penny for her, but it had been worth it. Unfortunately, the others could not hope to keep up with her at her fastest, so he was forced to hold her at a brisk walk.

Once they arrived, Kevin led them straight to the marketplace. It was midday, so the crowds were tame compared to the organized mayhem of early morning. Still, it was too busy for the horses to weave through effectively. They dismounted, and Andrew ordered Aaron and Nicky to watch the horses while he and Kevin went to run the errands. Nicky complained about not being able to shop, but Andrew was already walking away.  

Andrew followed Kevin like a shadow. He was uninterested in the plethora of stalls that lined the square, but he swept his gaze over them all anyway, searching for trouble. It had only been four months since Kevin had escaped from under the thumb of Riko Moriyama; four months since Andrew had agreed to protect him. Riko was a childish, stubborn arse who was hellbent on making Kevin’s life miserable, and he had already sent several ‘messengers’ to try to scare Kevin into returning to him. Andrew had sent them back to Riko black and blue. As Kevin bartered with the older man selling the various blacksmithing materials, Andrew crossed his arms and stared down anyone who came too close. 

“Yes, that’s everything. Could you have it delivered by the end of the week? Excellent. It has been a pleasure, sir.” Kevin shook the vendor’s hand and smiled his fake public smile. Andrew didn’t understand how anyone could be fooled by it. 

“Finished?” Andrew drawled. 

Kevin looked down at him and nodded. They spent the next hour buying things that were on the list that Dan had given them. The items were small enough to pack in their saddlebags, but looking for them was a chore. Andrew hated that Dan was making him do her work, but she had given him a pouch full of coin and a promise of next weekend off, so he bore the hatred silently. And if he spent some of the money on bars of imported chocolate, well, she was too far away to rebuke him for it. 

Andrew and Kevin eventually made their way back to the other half of their party. Nicky and Aaron had brought the horses to a rest stop a couple streets over and were in the process of giving them some water. The summer heat made the horses shiny with sweat. Andrew was feeling rather damp himself. He went over to his horse and grabbed his waterskin, gulping down the barely-cold liquid. 

“Did you guys find everything?” Nicky asked. Kevin raised his arms, which had numerous canvas bags hanging from them. “Oh hell, give me some of those. Honestly, Andrew, would it kill you to carry something for once? Kevin’s hand is still recovering!”

“If dear Kevin can work in the forge, then he can carry the bags,” Andrew said. “Now shut up and pack up.”

After that there was no more conversation. Even Nicky, who normally always found something to babble about, kept his mouth firmly shut. Soon enough they were mounted and on their way out of town. Andrew didn't lead them back eastward, instead choosing to detour further south. It wasn't often that he got to leave Wymack’s little village of rejects, especially since Kevin showed up, so Andrew was going to make the most of this trip and stop by Eden’s Twilight. Perhaps then his boredom would finally lessen.

“Hey, what's that?” 

Andrew flicked his gaze to where Nicky was pointing, and he immediately tensed. They were far enough away that they looked tiny and unimposing, but the black and red of their uniforms set off alarms in Andrew's head. 

“Get to cover  _ now,”  _ he said.

The horses kicked up dirt in their haste to obey their riders. They thundered down the road, Andrew bringing up the rear. A few tense minutes passed before they managed to hide themselves behind a sloping hill. Kevin opened his mouth to say something but Andrew silenced him with a raised hand. He listened for any signs of pursuit, watching the path for another few moments just to be sure they were clear. When he dropped his hand everyone started speaking at once.

“What the fuck are Moriyama soldiers doing here?”

“Do you think they saw us? I'm too pretty to die!”

“Did Riko send them? He's never sent so many before.”

While they freaked out, Andrew was already forming a plan to get some answers. Kevin was right, Riko hadn't sent that many soldiers in the past. He hadn't been so ostentatious about it either. Riko wanted Kevin back but he didn't want people to  _ think _ so, which was why his previous lackeys had acted discreetly. Something was not adding up. If those soldiers weren't sent by Riko then there could be trouble.  _ Real  _ trouble. For all his arrogance, Riko had no actual power. The King on the other hand….

“Enough.” Andrew had not raised his voice but the others stopped talking immediately. “Nicky, do you know the way to Eden's from here?”

Nicky seemed confused by the question but gave his affirmation.

“You three go straight there. No stops. Once there, you  _ stay _ there. Don't leave, don't tell anyone about what you saw. Have Roland get you a room for the night. If I'm not back by morning then you send a letter to Wymach and ask for Renee to come get you. Am I clear?”

“Wait where are you going?” Nicky asked.

“To get answers.”

Nicky’s eyes widened. Kevin looked sick but made no protest against the plan. Surprisingly, or maybe not, it was Aaron who spoke.

“Are you insane? There must have been twenty guys back there!”

Andrew just stared at him. Aaron threw up his arms in defeat. When no one else said anything more, Andrew flicked his wrist at them to get going. He didn't wait for them to get out of sight before he turned around and went to find the soldiers.

They were painfully easy to spot. They moved out in the open, not caring in the least that they were trespassing on Palmetto land. The group seemed to be arguing about something. Once the shouting subsided, the twenty men split into two groups. Fifteen were headed towards the town Andrew had visited hours before, and five headed south towards the border. He had to decide which to follow.

Those headed for town would be easier to tail thanks to the crowds of citizens, but there was something about the nervous, unhappy expressions of the smaller group that piqued Andrew’s interest. He turned south.

Andrew followed the five men for the better part of two hours. It was a tedious task because the open fields provided little cover. He had to follow them by their footprints instead of by sight. He munched on the chocolate he had bought, not wanting it to melt all over his stuff. His water supply dwindled even though he tried to make it last. 

Andrew guided his horse up yet another hill, but pulled her to a stop once he saw where they were. Below him, across the valley, stood the entrance to Exy Pass. Andrew cursed himself. He could not follow the soldiers through the pass, not even he was that stubborn. Andrew was about to double back and try his luck at the town when he saw the soldiers pause. They did not move further into the pass. Perhaps they weren't returning to the kingdom? If not, why come this close to the border? There was nothing here except cliffs or open fields.

Then the soldiers dismounted and walked towards the treeline. Andrew watched as they once again began to argue. He couldn't hear from this far away, and the lack of answers annoyed him. He needed to know what the hell was going on. 

Andrew got off his horse and told her to wait. She blinked at him then started to chew the grass. Is that what it felt like when he ignored people? He shrugged and began to make his way down the hill. He used the tall grass as cover and slowly crouched his way across the field. It helped that he was short. Soon, Andrew could hear raised voices. He inched closer, silent as a shadow.

“Why do I have to go? You're the tracker!”

“Ya well, it’s your fault we had to check the forest! If you hadn't messed up that arrest last week--”

“Oh shove it, that was a set up and you know it. Besides, I have  _ children.  _ Do you want them to be fatherless?”

They went back and forth like this for a while. Andrew was unable to follow most of it until a third man spoke.

“Can you two shut up? Look, we all know the rumours about this place, but that’s all they are,  _ rumours. _ ”

“Oh ya? Then what about Oliver's kid? He never made it out, and we know for a fact that he went in.” Andrew could hear the fear in the man’s voice. 

“Oliver's son was six, he wouldn't have survived a regular forest on his own. You're all scared shitless for no reason,” said the third, reasonable soldier.

Andrew looked at the forest being discussed. Sure, it looked a little creepy, with its dark trees and grey looking plants, but he didn't see what all the fuss was about.

“Why don't you go in then?” someone challenged.

“Damn you! We have our fucking orders and I would rather be taken by the Forest of the Lost than explain to the king why we failed to do our jobs.”

“Alright, alright everyone calm down. We don't all have to go in. No use in us all getting lost when we don't even know if our targets are in there. Lets draw sticks so it's fair, ya?”

The men proceeded to break sticks. They were about to draw when Andrew noticed.

“Hey, where's Mark?”

Andrew wasn't fast enough. He felt a boot kick him in the back, and he fell face first into the grass. His attacker went for his hands and wrenched them behind his back, his knee pressing into his spine. Andrew fought harshly against the man’s grip. He managed to get one arm free and, twisting quickly, he dislodged him and drove his fist into the man’s unprotected jaw. In the next instant he was on his feet, dagger in hand. 

The soldier who had jumped him was getting up, and the rest of the group had come running to see what the commotion was. Andrew found himself facing off against five armoured men. Normally he'd take the odds, but he needed to take what he'd learned and get to Eden's. He couldn't afford to be slowed down. One of the soldiers pointed his sword at Andrew.

“Lower your weapon and identify yourself!” 

Andrew thought that was amusing coming from a soldier that had no jurisdiction in this country. 

“Fuck off,” he told them.

Enraged, they charged at him. Andrew was quick and precise with his strikes. He dodged under the first man’s sword and followed up with a stab to the back of his knee. He body checked the next soldier to the ground and used the falling momentum to roll forwards and avoid another one's strike. Before another attack could be made, Andrew was sprinting to the treeline. If what the soldiers had said before was true, then they would be too scared to follow him into the forest. Even if a few were brave enough, the trees offered more hiding places and cover from their attacks.

There were a few shouted curses before one of the soldiers dared to follow him. Andrew threw his dagger right at his face. It bounced off his helmet, but the pain still made him stumble. By the time the soldier looked up again, Andrew was long gone. 

Andrew slowed after five minutes of running. He was annoyed and sweaty and he lost one of his knives. He took a moment to catch his breath and ground himself. He thought about what he had discovered.

The Moriyama soldiers were apparently on a manhunt. He was almost certain they weren't looking for Kevin, because Riko already knew where to find him. Plus, they had said ‘targets’ not ‘target’. Andrew wanted to know who exactly made the Moriyamas desperate enough to send soldiers into other countries. He would have to ask Kevin if he knew of any major criminals that fit the bill. That is, if he could get out of this forest.

Andrew was not a superstitious person by nature. The soldiers had said something about no one ever leaving this forest once they enter it. Something about the words sounded familiar and he struggled to place the memory. Renee’s voice filled his head. He remembered having a theoretical conversation with her about a war between Palmetto and Ravenel. Andrew had said that he would use the forest near Exy Pass to ambush incoming armies. Renee had laughed as if it were a joke.

_ “Don't you know the legend of that forest, Andrew? They call it the ‘Forest of the Lost’. It is said that the forest was once protected by a powerful witch during the Time of Magic. Those who trespassed without their permission would be consumed by the trees, and would never again leave it. They say some power still resides there, even after magic disappeared from the world. I wouldn't risk an ambush if I were you.” _

_ “Sounds like a bunch of horse shit.” _

_ “Perhaps. But enough people have gone missing to make even the bravest of souls wary to enter.” _

Andrew took in his surroundings. He felt uneasy, which was ridiculous. He wasn't about to let some made up story affect his judgement. It would be dark soon and he had places to be. Andrew picked a direction at random and started to walk. 

And walk.

And walk some more.

He tried to shake the feeling that he was being watched. He fingered the hem of his armband absently. It was a tell, and he forced himself to stop once he noticed he was doing it. The sun was getting lower and the shadows grew long. Soon it would be dark. Andrew should have found an exit by now. The forest couldn't be  _ that  _ big.

As he wandered, he spared a moment to think about Kevin and the others. He wondered if they had arrived at Eden’s safely. He wondered if his horse still waited for him on the hill. Spitefully, he cursed Renee for putting stories in his head.

Day turned to evening.

Andrew faced the fact that he would not be sleeping tonight. He had thought that he would not have to live like this again; in an unfamiliar place, with no roof over his head or food in his stomach, and nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and the knives on his arms. 

Something whispered to his left. Tense, he turned to find a giant willow tree, its thousands of drooping branches swaying eerily in the...breeze. Andrew looked at the trees around him and realized that there was no wind. Everything was still except for the tree in front of him.

_ Interesting. _

Ignoring the pang of apprehension in his gut, Andrew approached the willow and cautiously reached out a hand. His fingers brushed over stiff leaves. He paused, waiting to see if anything would happen. The willow just kept on rustling. Curiously, cautiously, Andrew parted the branches with his arm and stepped through. When he released the branches, they fell behind him like a wall, and stilled.

His heart sped up by a fraction of a second. He reminded himself that magic was a thing of the past and no longer existed.

Light shimmered through the branches on the other side of the tree. Like a moth, Andrew was strangely drawn by it. His body was moving before his mind could consent, and he bit his tongue to center himself. This place made him lose control.

He hated it.

He whipped the branches to the side with a slice of his arm.

He blinked in surprise. A tower, bathed in the dying light of the sun, stood tall in a clearing bordered by even taller trees. Wordlessly, Andrew walked around the perimeter. It looked to be abandoned. Ivy crawled up the stone, untamed. The grass was overgrown and the windows were crusted with dirt. The roof...fuck, the roof was made of glass. What kind of idiot built a roof out of  _ glass? _

Andrew told himself that he'd rather be under a glass roof than no roof. One night in the dumb tower wouldn't kill him. Andrew circled the tower in search of the door.

Of course there was no fucking door.

He managed to find the most useless tower known to mankind. Fuck it, he'd rest under the haunted willow instead. Unless…

Andrew tilted his head and squinted. There, protruding from the keep of the tower, was a balcony with glass doors. He fought not to roll his eyes. What use were doors that were forty feet in the air? Who the hell built this abomination? Andrew was pissed. Screw the willow, he was going to find a way into this tower even if he had to climb it.

He froze.

Andrew pulled on the ivy to test its grip. It held tight. He yanked on it. Still not a twitch. Andrew almost laughed.

Before the rational part of his brain could convince him that scaling a tower with no lifeline was dangerous and crazy, the spiteful part of Andrew reminded him that he would not be denied shelter because of some stupid architecture. 

He was probably also crazy.

Andrew gripped the ivy and pulled himself up. He kept his eyes forward and his body moving. Steadily, he climbed higher and higher. The ivy thinned out about two thirds of the way up. He grit his teeth, back and shoulder muscles straining to hold still. Slowly, Andrew managed to unsheath two slim daggers from their sheaths. After some knifty manoeuvring and a breathless moment where he nearly lost his grip, he managed to get a dagger in each hand. Without thinking about it too hard, he reached out and shoved the blade into the plaster between the stones. Miraculously, the knife stuck. 

He did it again with the other hand. Then he pulled his feet out of the ivy. Heart in his throat, Andrew’s feet swung free. They dangled beneath him, unable to find purchase on the smooth stone. With a grunt, Andrew willed his arms to move. He flexed his arms and pulled himself up until his elbows bent and his head raised past his hands. He trembled, but managed to pull out a knife and shove it several feet above him. He climbed the rest of the way like that, his arms bulging with effort, legs nothing but dead weight. When at last he reached the balcony, he flung himself over the railing and collapsed on the wood. His chest heaved and his arms felt like they were tearing from his shoulders. His heart was beating madly.

He didn't remember the last time he felt so much at once. He wondered if Bee would consider this progress.

Probably not.

Andrew allowed himself another minute to stop shaking before he was pushing himself to his feet once more. The doors looked old, but they had less grime on them than the windows. He tried the knob but of course it was locked. Patience at its limit, Andrew pulled back his arm and put his fist through the glass. There was the sharp sound of glass hitting the floor, then nothing.

Andrew fit his hand through the hole and unlatched the lock. The door opened to a dark, circular loft. Andrew stepped inside cautiously, something about the space putting him on alert. Andrew had enough time to realize he wasn't alone before a pan swung out of the darkness towards his face.

 

**************

 

Neil woke up that morning feeling restless and out of sync with himself. Today would not be a good day. All through the morning he felt himself go through the motions. He washed his face, dressed, ate some watery oatmeal for breakfast. He spent the day like any other; he swept the floor even though it didn't need sweeping, ran up and down the stairs until he was out of breath, and brushed his insanely long hair. 

It had grown quickly since he had arrived at the tower, nearly doubling in length over the two and a half years he had lived here. It was probably around fifty feet long now. Perhaps puberty was to blame, or perhaps the magic in it was reacting to the residual power of the forest. Whatever the case, his hair was becoming difficult to deal with. Despite not getting dirty (apparently his magical hair self-cleaned), the strands were not immune to knots. He had to brush it often if he left it down. Braiding it was a better solution, but it was a difficult task when he had fifty feet of hair to work with.

Neil tried not to complain. If his biggest problem was his hair maintenance then he certainly had it in him to be grateful. He had managed to hide safely in this tower for years, only leaving it to steal some supplies from nearby villages every six months or so. One of the merits of living in the forest was it's convenient location. Neil lived right on the convergence of the borders of Palmetto, Troy and Ravenel. He could sneak into any of the three nations in the blink of an eye and disappear just as fast. 

When Neil had found the tower, he had honestly only planned to stay long enough to decide his next move. He had not expected to settle into a quiet life of solitude and relative safety. 

Neil remembered those first few weeks like they happened yesterday. He remembered his desperation and fear, the weight of his resolve to survive countered by the agonizing feeling of not knowing how to do so on his own. Neil had spent three days in the keep of the tower, curled with his back to the wall as he fought off panic attack after panic attack. It was only when he ran out of food that he moved again. He might not have even managed that if it hadn't been for the tiny bird next to him, crying out in hunger.

Neil had spent that day searching the tower for food and water. Imagine his surprise when he found the cellar stocked full of beans and oats and slabs of cured meats. He had been baffled. No one should have entered the tower since him and his mother had left the first time. The tower did not have a door, at least not where a person would expect a door to be. Afraid he might not be as alone as he had first thought, Neil had swept the entire tower and surrounding area for signs of human life. He had found nothing.

The mystery of the cellar was solved later that week when Neil had accidentally fallen asleep before eating the food he had made for dinner. When he woke up the next day, the beans were predictably sour. Curious, Neil had taken a handful of food from the cellar and left it in the keep for a few days. The food went bad, but when Neil checked the cellar, it was perfectly fine, fresh even.

Food in the cellar did not spoil.

_ ‘Magic,’  _ Neil had whispered.

With that revelation, Neil had begun to grasp the worth of his new hideout. During the following weeks, Neil made it his goal to discover the secrets of the tower and forest. And oh, how there  _ were  _ secrets.

Preoccupied with the knowledge that perhaps Magic wasn't as gone as the world thought, Neil temporarily forgot about his panic, and the burning urge to keep moving. He told himself that he had time to think things through, that the tower was safe. He would take a month to rest and make a solid plan for his future survival, then he would leave this place behind him, just as he had left so many others.

One month turned into two.

Then three.

Before Neil knew it, an entire season had passed. Not a single soul had entered the forest since his arrival. Neil was alone. It was strange at first, and he did not trust the fragile peace to last. But then another season passed and Neil hesitantly, foolishly, believed he could maybe,  _ just maybe _ , stop running.

Two and a half years was the longest he had stayed in one place since the day he became a runaway.

Even as Neil stood on his balcony, gazing out at the trees, quiet and calm, he knew in his bones that this would not last. The feeling of restlessness returned, along with the old itch in his legs to  _ run. _

Something was coming.

Neil clutched at his mother's locket, the shape of it memorized by his fingers after all this time. It, like the tower, contained a secret. Neil had gathered the courage to open it one cold winter night, as he shivered in his bed and longed for the warmth of his mother at his back.

It had snapped open surprisingly easy. Neil was almost offended that something of his mother's would submit so willingly under a little pressure. Inside the locket, written in a flowing hand, were the words ‘ _ Never forget from where you came. -S.A.H _ .’

Neil didn't know what it meant or who wrote it. It was a secret about his mother that he had not been privy to while she was alive. The message in the locket made him aware of just how little he knew about his mother before she  _ was  _ a mother. Where was she from? What had been her maiden name? Did Neil have family, people that were not trying to use him for their own gains?

He didn't know.

Did he want to know?

Neil sighed and stepped back inside. He made himself a small lunch of tomatoes and cheese and some herb-crusted bread. Damn, Trojan bread was absolutely delicious. It was unfortunate that he couldn't get more until spring. Once his meal was finished, Neil brushed his hands off on his trousers and stood. He had some work to do.

Neil descended the short flight of stairs to the second level of the keep. It was the same sized space as the floor above, but was split into two areas; the ‘bedroom’ and the kitchen. His bedroom was just a cot and a chest of clothes, which he had gone through and altered to fit him. The kitchen was basically a hearth and a large wooden table. There was also an old wardrobe-like thing where Neil had found various pots and other kitchen related tools. Neil used the kitchen rarely for cooking. His meals were normally eaten fresh, unless he was cooking his meat. The most he did was heat water for oatmeal or heat water and put a bunch of stuff in it to make stew that he prayed would taste decent.

Hence, a majority of the space in the kitchen was used as storage. Neil kept his miscellaneous tools and possessions piled haphazardly against the walls. He carefully coaxed a shovel out of the mess, making sure not to hit anything and cause the whole stack of objects to collapse. Shovel in hand, he jogged down the main spiral staircase that stretched the entire height of the tower, his hair trailing behind him with a soft  _ hiss.  _

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he bypassed the cellar door and instead made his way to the end of the sort hallway. Nothing about the stone wall looked particularly special, it seemed to be just a dead end. But Neil knew the tower’s secrets and so, with the press of his hand against the slightly discoloured brick, the floor shifted to reveal a hidden passage, stairs leading down into the earth. This was the true entrance to the tower.

The passage was short and let out through a trapdoor hidden underneath moss and the roots of a giant willow tree. Neil stepped out of the hole and swung the shovel over his shoulder. He weaved his way through the trees, humming a tune that he'd heard while living in the Golden Isles, and made his way to one of his buried caches. One of the first things he did when he decided to remain at the tower was split up his small fortune and bury his money in several locations around the forest. Even though he had established that the tower was pretty secure, Neil wouldn't take any risks. Old habits died hard, and all that.

He reached the spot and stuck his spade into the dirt. Minutes later he was walking back to the tower with a pouch full of gold Alliance coin. Something told him he might need it soon.

The rest of the afternoon, Neil passed the time by doodling on his walls in chalk. He had found lots of chalk on the upper floor of the keep. In fact he had found many odd items and books that he could not identify. 

Eventuality the sun began to set. Hungry, Neil set about putting on some water for boiling some beans. As he rummaged through the wardrobe-thing for a pot, he heard a faint but distinct ‘thump’. Neil's heart pulsed and his instincts took over. 

_ It could be nothing,  _ his mind said, even as he grabbed the closest thing that could serve as a weapon, which turned out to be a heavy iron pan. Good enough.

Silently, Neil snuck up the stairs and entered the top floor of the keep. There was barely any light, which he was thankful for. Using the shadows as cover, Neil made his way closer to the balcony doors. He pressed himself against the wall and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, there was a shift in the shadows.

Something was out there.

Before he could decide what to do, Neil was shocked into a flinch by the fist that smashed its way through the glass on the door. He watched, frozen, as the hand shimmied the latch and flung the door inwards. The hand was followed by a body.

It was a person.

A person had just  _ broken into his tower _ .

The stranger looked around, and Neil used the distraction to inch closer.

The man suddenly tensed, but it was too late, Ne was already swinging the pan in a vicious arc, intent on bashing in the trespasser’s skull.

Instead of iron hitting bone, the pan collided with the man’s forearm, which he had thrown up in defense with lightning quick speed. The man grunted. Neil had a moment to be slightly impressed before the man’s other arm swung out and punched him in the ribs.

Neil recoiled and took a few steps back. They faced one another, Neil holding the frying pan in front of him, ready to defend or attack. But the stranger looked at Neil as if the display was as threatening as a pissed off kitten. 

Shaking out his arm, the stranger asked, “Who are you?”

Neil's mouth dropped open.

“I think that's my line. Who the hell are  _ you?  _ And why the fuck did you break into my tower? _ ” _

There was a long, tense pause where the man just stared at him as if Neil’s existence was one giant inconvenience. Then:

“I thought it was abandoned.”

“So you just decided to start smashing things?” Neil yelled. His voice cracked a bit, having not used it in a while. Plus he was worked up. Who was this annoyingly impassive person? What was he doing here? Who sent him? Was he looking for Neil? Was he just a random guy that decided to partake in some casual breaking and entering to-- “Wait. How the hell did you get up here?”

A shrug. “I climbed.”

“You...what?”

But the stranger was not paying attention any more. He was looking around the room again, eyes catching on the large circular garden that sat in the center. His chin tilted up to glance at the ceiling, which was made up of glass panels. He made a thoughtful humming noise. Neil narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The man seemed to be uninterested in him, but the blood in Neil’s veins was still roaring with energy.

“Who are you?” he asked again, taking a step closer. Neil realized his mistake when the stranger’s gaze snapped back to him. Neil felt dread grip his spine when the man’s eyes traveled from his face, down his body and along the floor. Though the sunlight was nearly gone, there was just enough left for his hair to reflect. The man raised an eyebrow as he followed the line of Neil’s hair around the room.

Neil’s mother was probably rolling in her grave at his absolute stupidity. 

He tried to calm down. Even if this stranger saw his hair, there was no one in the forest for him to tell. Neil could kill him, to be safe, but the man’s presence screamed ‘dangerous’ and Neil would rather not risk starting a fight he may lose. Still, he needed to find a way to get him out of the tower before he found out more secrets. Neil sighed and slowly lowered the pan.

“Look, whoever you are,” he said, “you can’t stay here if you don’t give me a reason to trust you.”

“You would trust me if I gave you a name?”

“It would be a start,” Neil lied. There was no way in hell he would ever trust anyone other than his mother. Neil took in the man’s non-reaction and decided to try a different approach. “Or I could name you myself if you prefer. Perhaps ‘Rude Midget’ will do.”

“Oh, how unexpected. You may prove to be interesting.” The man, who was actually really short, shorter than Neil even, tilted his head to the side. “Fine, then. My name is Andrew Minyard.”

Andrew stepped closer, an intense expression in his eyes that Neil could not define. Neil tried stop his instinctual urge to retreat, to keep out of the stranger’s reach, but he still took a half step back. Andrew noticed and his lips stretched to reveal his teeth. It did not look like a smile.

“And what about you? Going to tell me your name, or should I just call you  _ ‘Rabbit’ _ ?” Andrew mocked.

Neil refused to be afraid.

“It’s Neil. Neil Josten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist: Neil hits Andrew with the heavy blunt object.
> 
> Andrew: *sees problematic tower*  
> Andrew: im going to fight it
> 
> Fun fact for this chapter, I was going to end it at Andrew's POV but I couldn't live with the cliffhanger so HAVE IT ALL.
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of making a map so you guys can visualise the locations better. Let me know if that is a thing you want to see.
> 
> Concrit and comments welcome :)


	3. On Your Own, You Won't Survive: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo! Long time no post. I just want to start off by saying that I loathe this chapter! It gave me so much trouble and even after 8 rewrites its still not where I want it to be... BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. At some point you just got to say fuck it! At least now I may be able to update more regularly again. Hopefully.  
> Also shout out to my sister for helping me fix this mess!
> 
> Chapter warnings: there is mention of a rape act, but I kept it vague so that it was implied, no details  
> 

“Can you stop touching that, you're going to break it.”

Andrew ignored Neil and continued to poke and prod at the glass vials and other scientific-looking instruments spread out on the long table. Neil had never found any use for them so he had shoved the table against the wall and put them out of his mind. Andrew, however, seemed to be curious about them. That or he enjoyed annoying Neil. Sighing, Neil sent Andrew a warning look before he went to fetch a broom.

Neil was careful to sweep up every bit of glass. He often went barefoot and would rather not have to pick glass fragments out of his heels.

After Neil finished sweeping, Andrew grew bored of his poking game. He watched as Neil put the broken glass into a bowl to dispose of later. After that they watched each other silently, and Neil tried not to feel like a mouse cornered by a cat.

“Not going to offer me a drink?” Andrew asked at last.

“You aren't my guest.”

“Such poor manners. Didn't your mother teach you better?” 

The mention of his mother made anger and loneliness coil in his chest, and Neil had to take several steadying breaths to stop himself from throwing something across the room. Andrew was trying to provoke some sort of reaction out of him, but Neil refused to give anything away so easily.

“Didn't yours teach you not to break into people's homes?” he retorted.

Andrew waved off his comment as if it was inconsequential. “I hate small talk. Let's try something new, I ask you a question and you answer it.”

Neil pretended to think about it for a moment. “I have a better idea, how about you fuck off.”

Andrew did not seem to like that. His disinterested demeanor dropped and was replaced by quiet, barely restrained anger. One of his hands went to the cuff of his armband and Neils eyes followed the motion intently. The armband was black leather and it covered Andrew’s entire forearm. He wore one on each arm and Neil was certain that they hid some sort of weapon. Knives most likely. 

“I am losing my patience. You will answer my questions or I will make you hurt until you do,” Andrew said. Neil could tell by his tone that the words were no threat. Andrew was making a promise. Neil was all too familiar with people promising him pain if he misbehaved. 

“You can keep that in its sheath.” Neil motioned to where andrew had his fingers halfway under his armband. “You've already made your point.”

Andrew didn't look surprised that Neil had figured out he was armed, but he did appear to reassess how much of a threat Neil was, because he remained visibly tense as he spoke.

“Someone isn’t as stupid as they look.”

“People tend to underestimate me.”

“I don't give a shit. Now tell me--” Neil held up a hand to cut him off. 

“Hold on. I agree to answer your questions because I recognize we aren’t going to get anywhere otherwise,” Neil said, ignoring the furious look Andrew gave him for interrupting. “ _ However,  _ I want answers of my own. You are the intruder here. I don't know you and since you showed up you have broken my property and threatened me. If you think you can take what you want without returning the favour then you will find that I can be extremely uncooperative.”

Maybe it was because of the nagging feeling in Neil's mind that’s had him braced for a fight all day, or maybe it was just his attitude problem, but for some reason he refused to be pushed around by Andrew. He would not give away his secrets for free. Just this once, Neil was going to stand his ground. Besides, Neil was the one with the upper hand here.

Andrew studied him for what seemed like an eternity. Neil crossed his arms, tried to beat down the voice in his head telling him it was easier to just give Andrew what he wanted so he would leave, and waited. 

“Fine, have it your way,” Andrew growled, “We'll take turns, a question for a question.”

“Who goes first?”

“I do. Now--” 

“Ah, one more thing,” Neil interrupted again. Andrew looked like he wanted to push Neil off the balcony. “You can't ask about my hair.”

“That wasn't the deal. You can't pick and choose what I ask.”

“My hair is off limits or I don't answer anything,” Neil said stubbornly.

“I'm going to kill you.”

“Corpses can’t answer your questions.”

Andrew took a step forward, pure fury on his face. Neil realized he may be pushing past a breaking point. He held up his hands in surrender.

“I'll trade you something for the rule,” he said quickly. Andrew paused. “You can ask me two questions in a row, or take a pass on one of mine.”

Another small eternity passed where Neil thought Andrew would kill him anyway, but eventually Andrew slid a fragile mask of indifference over his anger.

“I get a pass.” 

Neil nodded his acceptance and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you done stalling now?” Andrew said in a voice that made it clear he would not put up with any more interruptions. Neil inclined his head to prompt Andrew to continue. “Fucking finally. How do I get out of this damn forest?”

Neil kept his expression carefully blank. It was impossible for Andrew to know that Neil knew the way out. Neil wasn’t sure how long Andrew had been wandering the forest, but Andrew must have realised that something was preventing him from leaving. Neil decided to answer with a partial truth.

“You can’t get out,” Neil said. “What did you expect when you entered ‘The Forest of the Lost’? It’s called that for a reason.”

“I told you not to lie to me,” Andrew growled. “Don’t try to sell me that magical bullshit.”

“I’m not lying.” And technically, he wasn’t. Andrew couldn’t leave, at least not without Neil’s help. “If you don’t believe me you’re welcome to run around aimlessly until the trees drive you to madness.”

Andrew’s face did not betray his thoughts. Neil, who learned to read people in order to survive, had to admit that Andrew was very good at keeping his mask in place. 

“My turn now. Where are you from?”

“How boring,” Andrew remarked, before adding “Palmetto.”

Neil cocked his head. “You don’t look it. Aren’t people from there supposed to be on the taller side?”

Neil hoped the jab would sidetrack the conversation, but Andrew merely looked Neil up and down derisively before dismissing the comment altogether.

“You made it sound like you believed the stories about this place, so how did you wind up trapped here? Something tells me you aren’t that kind of stupid.” Andrew said. 

Instinct told Neil to mind his words. Andrew had already proven himself to be observant, and Neil had a feeling that the wrong response would cost him. He could lie, say that he didn’t believe until it was too late, but it was likely Andrew wouldn’t be convinced.

“I came here  _ because _ of the stories.” Another half-truth.  Andrew’s silence felt like a demand to continue, so Neil explained, “Let’s just say the stories worked more for me than against me.”

“A rabbit in a cage is both trapped and protected by it. You traded freedom for survival,” Andrew stated bluntly.

Neil couldn’t hide his shock. How did Andrew figure that out so quickly?

“It’s an interesting story,” Andrew said. He put a finger to his chin and tilted his head as if he was trying to piece together a puzzle. “But one detail is bothering me. Tell me, little rabbit, what were you running from? Did you upset some wolves? Steal from a bear? No?”

Andrew was moving forward. Trying to preserve their distance, Neil backed away. Andrew looked at him like he wanted to peel away his skin layer by layer to unravel his secrets. It took every bit of will Neil had to keep from running. Somehow Neil felt in his bones that turning his back to Andrew was the ultimate mistake.

“Perhaps I’m in the wrong category. Maybe your problem isn’t on the ground.” 

Neil’s blood ran cold.

“Hey,  _ Neil, _ ” Andrew whispered, “How do you feel about Ravens?”

Neil flinched violently and Andrew’s eyes snapped into focus. Just like that, Neil gave himself away. 

“That’s quite the reaction.” By this point Andrew had backed Neil against the wall. He watched Neil with dark eyes, as if waiting for Neil to condemn himself further. Mind racing, Neil tried to come up with an explanation, a lie convincing enough to fool Andrew, but it was difficult to focus. Andrew was too close, too evaluating, and Neil found himself struggling to think. It was just his luck that the random stranger that found him wasn’t some dumb country peasant. 

“Look, I don’t know where you’re from, but any sane person living in the Five Nations knows to fear the Ravens. My reaction isn’t unusual,” Neil said relatively smoothly. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” Andrew glared at him. “But you  _ are  _ hiding something.”

Neil was hiding many things, actually.

“Everyone has something to hide,” he retorted. “You aren’t entitled to my life story. You can’t break into my tower and accuse me of keeping secrets from you. You have no right.”

Neil was deflecting. If he made the conversation about Andrew then he could take the pressure off of himself.

“Your evasions are getting annoying.” Andrew at last stepped away from him. He padded over to the garden and, without asking, plucked a ripe tomato from its vine. With a quick motion, a knife suddenly appeared in his hand. He cut into the tomato slowly, so that only the point of the knife broke the skin. “I’m going to tell you something about myself, so pay attention. I promised to protect someone. He also has issues with the black birds to the south. This person is a coward and won't last long without me so I need to get back to him before he does something stupid.”

“I don't see what--”

“Shush,” Andrew commanded. He sliced off some tomato and popped it in his mouth. His expression didn’t shift as he chewed. “This is bitter as fuck. Anyway, the reason i'm here in the first place is because some Moriyama assholes were snooping around where they weren't supposed to be. You're going to like this part. I followed them to Exy Pass and overheard that they were looking for some people.”

Neil found himself hanging onto every word Andrew spoke. This was dangerous news and Neil needed to know every detail. What was he up against? Had the Moriyamas finally found him? No, that couldn’t be right. If the King knew where he was then he would’ve sent The Butcher himself to hunt Neil down. 

“They were too scared to search the forest, though,” Andrew continued, “So I used that to my advantage when they tried to capture me. But who knows how long they’ll stay away? Looks like your comfortable little life here won’t last much longer.”

Neil could have said many things to deny what Andrew was implying. Andrew believed Neil was the person they were looking for, and he was probably right. There weren't many people who had the skill and resources to escape the Royal Army once the King gave his orders. Even fewer managed to outrun The Butcher. If the Moriyamas were desperate enough to send out search parties into foreign countries in broad daylight, then Neil was definitely the one they were after.

But why  _ now _ ?

If the army could mobilize this much, why wait eight years to do it? Why not pull out all the stops from the beginning? Up until now Neil had only dealt with attacks from the shadows, never something this obvious. Him and his mother would have seen them coming from miles away. So why change tactics?

All at once Neil dropped his clueless act. He didn’t care if Andrew figured him out. He realized now that he never had the upper hand against Andrew. Even so, Andrew was a nobody, and he was trapped in the forest. He wouldn’t be telling Neil’s secrets to anyone.

“Did they say how many people they were after? Any descriptions?” Neil demanded. He needed information, had to be prepared. Andrew ate another piece of tomato and took his time swallowing.

“Done playing innocent? That makes things easier. That counts as two questions by the way.” Andrew finished the last of his food. He wiped his hands on his trousers and cleaned the knife with his black shirt. Once done, the knife disappeared back under an armband. “The soldiers weren’t specific, but they said ‘targets’. Plural.” Andrew paused for a moment. “Are we going to have company?”

Neil barely heard him.

The soldiers thought his mother was still alive. 

Lola must have never found her body. For a moment Neil was relieved. He had wondered over the past years if he had hidden her remains well enough. He was glad her grave stayed untouched.

Andrew snapped his fingers. “Answer me.”

“...No. It’s just me.” Neil clutched at his locket and pushed back the void of loneliness within himself. He felt Andrew’s eyes on him, but Neil was too tired to care.

Already, Neil was making plans to pack up and leave the forest. It was too dangerous to stay any longer. The legends would not deter his pursuers anymore. 

Anxiety crept its way into his mind. Neil hadn’t been out of his tower for extended periods of time in nearly three years. Worse, he was frighteningly close to Ravenel, and without the forest’s protection it would be all too easy for enemies to find him. Neil was also grossly unfamiliar with the countries to the north, with the exception of a few villages he used to stock up on supplies. He had been to Troy once, back when his mother had guided him from place to place. Even so, his memories were hazy at best, and Troy was a massive country, rivaled only by Ravenel.

If Troy was unfamiliar to Neil, then Palmetto was completely alien. With King Kengo’s soldiers openly searching for Neil, he would be lucky to last a week undetected in the foreign landscape.

The thing that scared Neil the most though, was the matter of his hair. On the run with his mother, it had been short enough to wrap around his torso, hidden beneath layers of clothes. With its length nearly doubled, he no longer knew if the same method would work.

Neil cursed himself for growing complacent. All these months he could have been making short recon trips in preparation for the day he would have to flee again. Instead he had let the tower’s safety coaxe the urgency and paranoia out of his mind.

His mother would have beat him for it.

In an effort to dispel his nervous energy, Neil began to pace. He needed to think of a place to run to, where even the King could not easily send his soldiers. Neil would have to travel farther than ever to escape his reach. But this time he’d have to do it by himself.

Before any grand journeys could take place, however, Neil needed to deal with the small problem of Andrew Minyard.

Then a thought occurred to him.

“Why are you telling me this?” Neil asked.

Andrew’s smile sucked the heat from the room.

“Because when rabbits get scared, they run. Your cage won’t keep the birds away anymore, yet you seem awfully calm. Where will you run to, I wonder, if we are trapped here like you say?”

Neil was beginning to think he underestimated just how dangerous Andrew was; a mistake that would likely cost him. Andrew tensed at Neil’s silence.

“Did you lie to me?” he growled. Andrew’s hand was halfway to his knife when Neil heard it, the faint clank of metal and the snapping of twigs. 

“Wait,” Neil hissed. Andrew must have heard the desperation in his voice, because he froze. The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the loft, louder than before. Andrew’s furious gaze stated loud and clear that he wasn’t finished with Neil, but he dropped his arm and took on a less threatening pose. When he was certain Andrew wouldn’t attack him, Neil rushed over to the east side of the loft where a large bowl of water rested on a carved marble stand. The fixture was imbedded in the floor and was almost as tall as Neil. He remembered mistaking it for a fancy bird bath when he first arrived. 

Currently, the water trembled in time to the footsteps, the surface glowing a pale white. It had only done this once before, halfway through Neil’s first year. He hadn’t understood what it was back then, or how something like this was possible. He remembered how frightened he was, how the water quivered and shook, growing more and more violent until finally Neil could do nothing but touch it. He remembered how the water calmed immediately and how the white glow dispersed to reveal an image. What Neil saw had left him shaken for hours.

The water had shown a man, middle aged and burly, dragging a young woman through the trees. His entire demeanour screamed aggressive, but Neil was no less surprised when the man began to beat the woman. He had watched in horror as the woman cried out for help. Neil had looked away when the man had ripped open the front of her dress. Neil had focused on holding down his lunch as the sounds of violence continued. When it was quiet again, Neil had found the resolve to glance back at the water. He saw the woman, laying still on the ground, the man standing over her, fixing his pants.

He ended up retching onto the floor. 

The water returned to normal once the man walked away from the woman. Neil didn’t move from his spot until the next day. Later, as Neil was wandering the forest, he came across the man. By the time the man noticed he was not alone, Neil had his dagger between his ribs. 

The trees soaked up the man’s blood and the wind hummed with satisfaction.

Back at the tower, Neil tried to figure out how to make the water bowl work. He knew with a degree of certainty, that the water had shown him an event that took place in the present, or near present, as proven by the presence of the man in the forest. If that was the case, he wanted to find the woman’s body, to at least give her a burial.

It took him days to solve, and he finally succeeded when he found a passage about something called  _ scrying  _ in one of the old books scattered throughout the tower.  

He eventually found the woman, and had put her to rest. Hands covered in dirt, Neil had tried not to think about the other grave he had dug recently, his mother’s death still a fresh wound on his heart.

Since the first scrying event, Neil practiced seeing things through the water. He puzzled over why it activated on it’s own in the first place, but could never figure out the answer. He grew frustrated when he learned that he could only see as far as the forest’s borders. What was the use of spying magic if he couldn’t even keep tabs on his father? Eventually, Neil stopped using the water. It remained dormant, never activating itself again.

Until today.

Neil saw Andrew stop a few feet away from the basin, his eyes full of guarded interest and reflected white light. He watched Neil reach out a steady hand, fingertips brushing the water slightly.

Just like the first time, the water leveled out and the light dimmed. Then Neil  _ saw _ .

Two soldiers, dressed in the black and red  colours of the Moriyama royal family were marching their way through the forest.

“Friends of yours?” Neil managed to say through clenched teeth.

“I’m pretty sure they’re here for you.”

Neil swiped his hand through the water viciously, causing the image to vanish. Not a drop of water spilled from the bowl. “You’re right. Fortunately, they’re still far off, which gives me time to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

“I don’t think it’s your turn to ask a question.”

“You never answered my other one,” Andrew reminded him darkly.

Neil let out a harsh breath. He did not have time to deal with this. 

“Alright,  _ fuck _ , you're stubborn.” Neil backed away from the basin and faced Andrew head on. “I didn't lie to you...technically. You asked me how  _ you _ could get out of the forest, and  _ you  _ can’t. Not alone, at least.”

Andrew studied him, probably deciding if it was worth it to cut Neil for his omission or not.

“Only you know the way out.” He didn't phrase it like a question, so Neil didn't bother confirming it. “I don't like being deceived. Do not do it again.” 

Neil shrugged and tried to slip around Andrew. Andrew allowed it but Neil felt eyes on him as he walked around the loft. It was pitch black by now, the night fully settled. Neil made his way to one of the many windows lining the walls. It was the only window he ever opened, and he only did so at night. Though used regularly, it was just as dirty as the rest in order to keep the appearance of abandonment for the tower. 

He flicked the latch and opened the panes of crusted glass. Neil debated just leaving it at that, but the urgency in his blood and the threat of the soldiers convinced him otherwise. He glanced at Andrew, who continued to watch him with an air of boredom, all previous intensity gone for the moment. Sighing, Neil leaned his head out the window, put two fingers in his mouth and blew. The piercing whistle was sharp and long. The sound split the night for a few seconds before tapering off into silence again. 

When Neil turned back around, Andrew had one eyebrow raised slightly, but didn't deign to comment.

“My turn, correct?” Neil asked with a tilt of his head. “Those soldiers, were they the ones who chased you here, or are they different?” 

“I recognize them.”

Neil nodded to himself. He was going to go after the soldiers. It was a little reckless, but he needed more answers than what Andrew could provide. Neil wasn't powerless in this forest, he was confident he would not be beaten in its domain.

“That glowing water,” Andrew began, “the image in it, what was that whole thing?”

Neil laughed shortly at Andrew’s hesitant curiosity. It was funny that Andrew seemed unaffected by the spectacle of magic other than slight puzzlement.

“It was a scrying vision. Magic,” Neil added. Andrew blinked. “Ah, right, you don't believe in ‘magical bullshit’. This must be very confusing for you. Is this enough proof for you or do I need to make the trees talk to really make it sink in?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Often. I actually haven't spoken to someone in half a year,” Andrew cocked his head, and Neil mentally slapped himself. Andrew did  _ not  _ need to know that. Why was he slipping up so much today? He wasn’t a bumbling child anymore, but he certainly was acting like one. His mother would be furious. “Forget I said that.”

Neil looked back at the basin. “Scrying means that whatever I see in there―” he pointed to the water, “―is happening outside. I normally have to activate it, though. I think just now... I think it may have been a warning.”

It was a plausible theory; the basin activated whenever someone trespassed in the forest. But if that were true, why did it not warn Neil about Andrew’s arrival? Despite what Neil knew about magic, there were still infinite things he didn't understand. 

“I don't care. All I need from you is the way out,” Andrew said.

“And why the hell should I help you?”

“So I don't stab you, perhaps?”

“You can’t threaten me with that. If I’m injured, I can’t lead you out, not to mention I'll be even less inclined to do so,” Neil snapped.

“What is it that you want then?” Andrew demanded.

Neil froze. “What?”

“You obviously won't help me since you don’t trust me and have a list of problems that need your attention at the moment,” Andrew began, tone mocking. “So I’m offering a trade. You help me and I return the favour. Fair, just like our little truth game. So what is it you want?”

Neil could hardly breathe. Here was this complete stranger― who didn’t know anything about Neil other than he was a wanted criminal running from the most brutal monarchy in the land―choosing to nonchalantly offer Neil a deal. He had to be insane.

Neil had to be worse than insane because he was  _ considering  _ it.

“Why should I trust you?” Neil hedged.

“Why should I trust _you?”_ Andrew shot back. “Don’t over complicate this, _Neil._ We make a deal, see it through, then part ways and never think of it again. Take it or leave it, but I won't ask again.”

Alarm bells were going off in Neils head. Andrews offer felt like making a deal with a demon. His mother's voice was in his bones, screaming at him to  _ trust no one _ . But this wasn’t trust. It was a pact, a promise sealed with the knowledge of mutual destruction if it should be broken. Neil wouldn’t trust Andrew, but working with him might prove to be beneficial.

Before Neil could give a (possibly hasty) answer, there came a loud screech from the window, followed by the flapping of large wings. Neil reached out his arm just in time to catch his companion. Talons, at least an inch long, dug into his forearm and pinched at his flesh. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, so the sting of them was more intense than usual. 

Neil turned his head to look over the bird, now a foot tall and much heavier than the scrawny infant he had been when Neil found him. It turned out the little thing was a hawk. With Neil's care, he had grown into a swift predator of the skies.

“Welcome back,” Neil greeted. A ruffle of feathers was the only reply. The hawk only had eyes for the stranger in his home.

Andrew, to his credit, kept calm under the unblinking gaze, despite the fact that he had to have noticed the razor sharp beak and black talons that were making Neils arm spot with blood.

“Andrew, this is Striker.” Neil bit his lip to prevent a laugh at Andrew’s disbelieving exhale of ‘what the fuck’. It was the most emotion Neil had seen on him, and Neil couldn’t resist taking advantage of the moment. “Striker, this grumpy imp is Andrew. Say hello.”

Striker raised his wings to show off his impressive four foot wingspan, and let out a sharp screech. Andrew narrowed his eyes. Neil grinned despite himself. He brought Striker over to his perch, which was a simple wooden stand that Neil had fashioned himself. He quickly looked over Striker’s deep red feathers for injury before deeming him unharmed. There wasn’t much that could hurt a hawk, but sometimes even prey could fight back if they were desperate enough to live. 

Neil would know.

“I won’t agree to your deal. Not until I find out all I can from those soldiers in the forest,” Neil added before Andrew could argue. “If you can wait a few hours, I’ll give you my answer then.”

Andrew watched him for a minute before nodding curtly. “Have it your way. But I'm coming with you.”

Neil tilted his head in confusion.

“You aren’t the only one who wants answers. Now hurry up, I need to make someone bleed and apparently it can’t be you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should start a count for bad Exy references.  
> Was the chapter good, or did you hate it like me? Leave your thoughts below if you want!


	4. On Your Own, You Won't Survive: Pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been ages...I'm sorry...  
> Take this 6k chapter as an apology...
> 
> Trigger Warnings: graphic torture, panic attack, mention of physical abuse

Andrew openly observed Neil as he puttered around the loft; partially because he didn't care to hide his staring, partially because it seemed to be making Neil extremely uncomfortable. The man was a mystery, and though Andrew tried to convince himself otherwise, he found he was interested in solving Neil. 

It was vexing, or would be vexing, if someone like Andrew could feel that strongly, that he couldn't put a label on what Neil was. Andrew had called Neil a rabbit, and at first glance it seemed to fit. He was twitchy and guarded, not to mention he looked like he was ready to bolt at any sudden movement. But then Neil opened his mouth, and rabbit didn't quite fit anymore. Neil spoke in circles. He was tricky and took every opportunity to outwit you. Andrew hated it. It made him difficult to manipulate. It was probably due to Neil’s mistakes rather than Andrew’s own intellect that their earlier conversation had ended in Andrews favour.

And then there were Neil’s eyes. They were a shocking blue, almost electric. They told Andrew that though Neil would choose flight over fight, he would still find a way to destroy anyone who chased him too hard.

So no, Neil was no rabbit.

Andrew didnt need Neil to know that though.

“Alright,” Neil said, coming to stand in front of Andrew, just out of arms reach, “I’m ready.”

Andrew glanced up and down Neil’s frame. Neil had changed out of his ratty clothes and into something more sturdy. He wore dark, soft leather boots, pants without holes, a deep blue tunic and hooded black cape, the length of which only reached around mid thigh. Andrew took note of the bow slung over his back, and the wicked looking dagger at his hip.

“It’s about time.” Andrew had waited nearly an hour for Neil to finish preparing. Most of that time was due to Neil having to braid his weird, ridiculously long hair. Andrew didn’t know how he managed to hide all of it, but Neil had gone into his room with a long rope of braided hair, and came out fully dressed without a hair in sight. Andrew could only assume that the hair was somehow rigged under his clothes. Neil kept tugging down his tunic, obviously paranoid about keeping it hidden. 

It made Andrew want to ask about it, and it annoyed him that he promised not to.

Neil observed Andrew for a minute, expression thoughtful.

“Do you want to borrow a longer weapon? I may have a sword lying around.”

Andrew brushed his fingers over his armbands, “These will be enough.”

Neil accepted that without comment. He went over to where his pet bird―if you could even call it that―sat perched by the window. Neil whistled to it, a different combination of sounds than what he had used before. Then, he opened the window and stood back as the bird stretched its massive wings and took flight.

“Ok, everything is set. Follow me.”

Neil led Andrew to the part of the loft that held the stairs. It was nothing but a rectangle in the floor big enough for a person to descend into. As they went, they passed another platform and door, which Andrew guessed led to more living space, since Neil had disappeared there to change, and there was no bed in the loft. Neil continued down the spiraling staircase without pause. Andrew tried not to feel trapped in the narrow space. There was stone on all sides, no windows. 

They kept descending in silence. At last the staircase ended. Neil glanced at him again, with the same thoughtful look on his face. With a soft sigh, he shuffled over to the only door in the short hallway and pushed it open. The door apparently led to a cellar, not outside, which raised several questions. Like where the hell was the exit?

Neil reemerged holding an apple and small roll of bread. He offered it to Andrew wordlessly.

“I thought I wasn’t your guest?” Andrew said.

“Just shut up and take the food. I don't need you fainting or giving us away with your growling stomach.”

Andrew stared at him blankly before taking the food. It was free and he was hungry, not having eaten anything besides the stolen tomato since that morning. Satisfied Neil moved on.

Andrew took bites of the apple as he followed Neil to the end of the hallway, making sure to chew as loudly as possible. He watched with mild interest as Neil stopped in front of the dead end wall. Neil hesitated a beat before he tapped the stone. Andrew kept his expression carefully unimpressed as the wall began to move. Of course the tower had a secret passage.

Neil was watching him and was probably disappointed by Andrew’s lack of reaction. 

“Into the rabbit hole?” Andrew mused through a mouthful of fruit.

Neil wrinkled his nose, and Andrew viciously cut down the prickling of warmth in his stomach.

Neil was a  _ problem. _

The passage was dark and eerie. Neil walked with confidence over the uneven ground, snickering when Andrew stumbled blindly. 

The further they went, the darker it became, until andrew couldn’t make out the walls. 

Apparently Neil took pity on him, because stopped walking and began to hum. It was one long note, not very high, and Neil held it for a few seconds before letting it taper off. 

Then, as if in response, the passage began to glow. Icy blue light spread softly up the walls. It wasn’t vibrant, but at least Andrew could see his feet. 

The source of the light seemed to be crystal like fragments, embedded in the rough stone of the walls. Andrew looked more closely and saw that the stone was actually hard packed dirt. They were in something resembling a natural tunnel. Andrew reached out a hand and cautiously held it against a glowing fragment. It was cold. How was something light-producing not heat-producing?

Neil, contours edged in blue, watched Andrew process his surroundings with quiet intensity. 

“They're sound crystals. They glow when there’s noise. Louder the sound, the brighter the light.” Neil explained.

“I didn't ask.”

Neil tilted his head, and for some reason his eyes seemed otherworldly, and for an impossible second Andrew felt like his thoughts were written on his skin for Neil to read.

“Didn't you?” Neil mused.

A blink, and the moment passed. Neil turned away and Andrew was left feeling empty. Now how was that possible, when he felt empty every second of his life?

Andrew did not like Neil’s unpredictability. He didn't feel detached when he was near Neil. He itched to cut Neil down, eliminate this man who kept being interesting and unreal. 

But a tiny part of Andrew whispered to keep him close. To see how long the interest would remain. Because somehow, Neil made things not boring. 

Andrew let the thought exist for a fragile moment before he buried it so deep within himself that it was unlikely to ever rise again.

He caught up to Neil, who continued to hum every so often to maintain the light. In a matter of minutes, Neil came to a stop. The tunnel was at its end. There was a ladder, only about eight feet high, that was secured to the wall and led to a trapdoor above them. Neil climbed the ladder and pressed his palm to the wood. He seemed to concentrate for a moment before nodding to himself. 

“Stay close to me while we're in the forest. Keep quiet and follow my lead. Can you handle that?” Neil asked.

Andrew gave him a flat look.

Neil frowned but opened the hatch anyway. Andrew followed him out and immediately searched his surroundings. The long branches of a willow provided them with cover. Andrew had the suspicion that this was the same tree he had wandered into earlier that day, but he couldn't tell for sure. 

Neil brushed off his trousers and gently closed the trapdoor again. Andrew nearly jumped when a massive root began to move and slide its way over the door, dragging moss and fallen branches over it. 

“Still think magic is bullshit?” Neil teased.

“Shut up and get moving.”

Neil did as he was told. The forest turned out to be extra creepy at night. It was hard to see, cold, and once again Andrew felt as though he was being watched. Neil, the asshole, looked to be perfectly at ease. He moved gracefully and was impressively silent. Andrew was almost as perfect. He may have to get Renee to teach him some tricks once he got back to the town. 

Suddenly, a distant screech pierced the silence of the forest.

Neil held out his hand, a clear sign to freeze. Andrew kept still, save for his eyes which struggled to see in the darkness. He felt Neil tense beside him, could hear the barely-there whisper of his breathing. They stood frozen for half a minute, when without warning, Neil shot out his arm. Then the hawk was gliding through the gaps in the trees with barely a whisper of wind to announce his presence. He landed on Neil’s arm with ease. Neil did his whistle thing again, and then the bird took to the sky again.

Andrew wasn't sure what just happened, but Neil looked more serious than a minute ago.

Neil tapped two fingers to Andrews arm, right where one of his knives was hidden. How Neil knew its resting place with such blind accuracy was rather interesting. Taking the gesture as a warning, Andrew slid the blade free with barely a hiss. Neil motioned for Andrew to conceal himself behind a large, thorny looking bush. 

“They'll come from between those two trees. Two minutes. We'll take one each from opposite sides. Don't kill them until we get answers.” Neil murmured.

“Don't order me around,” Andrew warned, so Neil knew not to make it a habit. But he got into position as instructed. He had to behave so Neil would agree to the deal.

Andrew saw Neil disappear somewhere across from him. They waited, and sure enough, the two soldiers appeared between the designated trees. 

How the hell did Neil predict that?

The soldiers’ approach was slow. They looked tired and spooked, like they'd been wandering for a while. The one closest to Andrew carried a halberd. He would have to act fast before the soldier could use the wide reach of the weapon. Andrew took his eyes off the pair for a second to scan the trees across from him. There was no sign of Neil, and for a moment, Andrew thought about the possibility that Neil had tricked him. There was a good chance that Andrew had been abandoned. 

The soldiers were almost upon him now, so whether he was alone or not, Andrew was going to see the plan through. He gripped the knife in his hand and focused. When the soldiers were finally within reach, Andrew didn't hesitate. He sprung from his hiding spot and tackled his target to the ground. Before they even hit the dirt Andrew had his knife rushing towards the man’s thigh. He pierce right above the man’s armour, near his groin, and felt the blade sink into flesh. The soldier yelped, from surprise or pain, as they fell. Andrew straddled the soldier and immediately pulled out the knife to stab the other leg. While the man writhed, Andrew ripped off his helmet and smashed it on the hand holding the halberd. 

Once the weapon was kicked out of reach and Andrew had another knife held to the man’s throat, he looked over to check if the other soldier needed taking care of.

It turned out Neil had not abandoned Andrew. Neil stood over the other soldier, who had an arrow embedded in each forearm, and another one, still noched in Neil’s bow, aimed between his eyes. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Neil’s soldier demanded. The man's voice was surprisingly even, not like the soldier below Andrew, who could only whimper and groan in pain. 

“I’ll be the one asking questions here,” Neil declared. “If you don't want your friend to get his throat slit, I suggest you answer quickly.”

Andrew pressed his knife more firmly against the soldiers throat, causing the man to gurgle out a low, frightened moan.

“Who are you hunting?” Neil asked.

The soldier glared defiantly up at Neil for a moment before relenting. 

“We don't know their names.”

“Don't bullshit me,” Neil said darkly. “How can you hunt someone who's name you don’t know?”

“It’s the truth! The general just showed us pictures. Told us that we needed to search for a middle aged woman and a young man. Said that they'd be together but likely disguised.”

“And you went along with orders like that?” Andrew asked. “You could run into hundreds of people that fit such a broad description.”

“There was one other thing,” the soldier spat, “We were told that we'd be able to tell because the boy would undoubtedly have very long hair. Blonde.”

Andrew pointedly did not look at Neil. 

“Why is the King so desperate to find them? He sends his men to foreign countries at the risk of breaching the Treaty, and goes even further by sending you to your death when he ordered you here,” Neil said.

“Command didn’t tell us,” the soldier was sweating heavily, “but there have been rumours around the castle. People are saying King Moriyama isn’t well, that he’s dying.” 

Andrew watched as Neil’s face went pale, noted the barely-there tremble in his fingers where they gripped his bow string. 

The news that King Moriyama was suffering from an illness made Andrew uneasy. If Kengo became too weak to rule, there would be a fluctuation in power. Things in Ravenel would change, especially if the old king ended up dying from sickness. Change was never a good thing, especially since Andrew wasn’t on good terms with one of the Moriyama princes.

Still, Andrew couldn’t help but wonder what was so precious to the king that he would use his waning energy on a manhunt. Just who was Neil, and what did he have over the king of Ravenel? 

“What crime did these people commit?” Neil asked.

“Goddammit, why the fuck do you care so much? You’re just a dumb peasant!”

Neil blinked and stomped on the man’s arm, right next to the arrow wound. The soldier screamed and cursed under Neil, who’s expression remained blank.

“Fucking bastard! I don’t know the fucking details! I was just told they stole the king’s treasure! A flower made of gold or some nonsense. Everyone says it’s priceless, worth more than all the riches of the capital.”

Neil opened his mouth to ask something else, but after a quick glance at Andrew, he changed his mind. Instead, he lowered his bow and stepped away from the soldier. Andrew took that as a sign that Neil was done his little interrogation.

Andrew’s soldier was nearly passed out, blood loss most likely, so Andrew didn’t bother actually slitting his throat. He’d be dead soon, and Andrew would rather not deal with the mess a neck wound would cause. He stood and walked over to Neil, keeping an eye on both fallen soldiers in case they decided to kill themselves faster by attempting an attack.

“Did you get your answers, Rabbit?” Andrew asked, as he wiped the blood from his knife. The black of his tunic hid the bloodstains well, and Andrew would remind Nicky of that fact next time he complained about Andrew’s all-black outfits. 

“Yes, we can head back.” Neil nervously pulled at a loose thread on his cloak, eyes shifting between the two soldiers. 

“Are you going to kill them?”

Neil looked startled, but not startled enough for Andrew to believe that Neil had never gotten his hands dirty. After all, no average person could have remained so cool after essentially ambushing and torturing a man for information. Andrew was positive Neil had experience with these sorts of things. 

“No,” Neil said, “It’s not necessary.”

With one last look at the soldiers, Neil turned and began to make his way back the way they’d come. Or at least, Andrew assumed it was the way they’d come; the stupid trees were impossible to tell apart.

“Hey wait! Are you just going to leave us here?” Neil’s soldier shouted. “You fucking assholes! Who do you think you are?”

Neil’s shoulders tensed, but he kept walking. 

“Wait, wait!” The voice was frantic now. “We gave you what you wanted! Are you just going to let us die? We don’t even know you! Please, they won’t even find my body if I die here! I have a wife!”

Andrew clenched his teeth as the man continued to plead for his life. He honestly couldn’t care less about what happened to them now, but the man’s cries were bringing back memories that Andrew had spent years trying to forget.

“Shut up or I’ll cut out your tongue,” he warned. The soldier must have noticed the promise in Andrew’s voice because he immediately closed his mouth. Still, the man’s eyes were beseeching, as if he believed Andrew would show him mercy. Objectively, Andrew knew that the soldiers’ situation was unfair, that they were simply following orders, and did not need to die here. 

But life was unfair. Andrew saw the desperation in the man’s wide eyes and it meant nothing to him. Mercy was but a word to Andrew. He had lived his life surrounded by the weak and helpless, watched as they begged for mercy as the scum with power controlled and violated their existence. Not once had he ever witnessed mercy. 

No, Andrew had learned many things as he fought to survive past adolescence, and mercy was not one of them. 

Andrew turned to follow Neil, and the soldier broke down behind him. Andrew didn’t feel any sympathy for him.

Truthfully, Andrew didn’t feel anything at all.

 

\---------------------------

 

Back at the tower, Andrew watched as Neil did his best to wear through the wooden floors with his pacing. He kept muttering to himself and glancing back at Andrew with a mixture of distrust and hope. Andrew tried to remain impassive and non-threatening. The last thing he needed was to scare Neil away, because without him Andrew was screwed. But fuck, Andrew was running out of patience. 

It was already hours past sundown, and Andrew needed to get himself to Eden’s Twilight by dawn. He didn’t know how deep the tower was in the forest, or how long he’d have to walk to get back to Exy Pass. From there it would have taken a half hour to reach Eden’s by horseback, but Andrew had no idea if his horse was even where he left her. Every minute that passed made him more tense, and the frustration of being unable to do anything on his own made anger boil in his veins.

He couldn’t even distract himself with the feeling of smoke in his lungs because he had left his tobacco in one of his saddlebags. 

“Ok let me get this straight,” Neil said, halting his pacing mid-step, “I lead you out of the forest and you’ll do something for me in return.”

Andrew wanted to strangle Neil for stalling,  _ again _ , but it seemed he had finally arrived at some sort of decision. He nodded stiffly.

“Alright, I’ve decided what I want,” Neil whispered.

“And what might that be?”

“I want you to help me avoid the Ravenel soldiers on my way through Palmetto. I don't know it like you do. So if you can get me to a harbour and onto a ship without being caught, I'll consider us even.”

Andrew thought about it, and found that the request was manageable. He already had a coward to babysit, what was one more?

“Do you need to leave from a specific harbour?” Andrew asked.

Neil shook his head, “Whichever is safest.”

“Fine, it’s a deal.”

Neil watched him warily for a moment, as if waiting for Andrew to take the words back. When Andrew just stared back blankly, Neil appeared to relax, though his posture remained expectant. 

“I assume you want to leave now?”

“You've wasted enough of my time already.”

“You're an asshole,” Neil stated. “I just thought you might want to sleep or something. Or do you not need as much rest as average sized humans?”

Andrew felt himself glare and cursed Neil for drawing out the expression. It was an amazing feat that Neil was able to annoy Andrew as much as he did after only knowing him for a few hours. It pissed Andrew off even more knowing that Neil was probably right. Andrew felt how tired his body was; after two fights, hours of hiking, and scaling a fucking tower, even he was bound to feel the fallout. But Andrew had people to protect, and after learning how desperate King Moriyama was to find Neil, he figured no place was safe for long. 

He needed to get back to his group.

In matter of seconds, Andrew had a fistfull of Neil’s cloak in his hand and he yanked Neil down so that they were nose to nose. Andrew could see the subtle shifts of blue in Neil’s wide eyes.

“You don’t need to talk to guide us out of here. If you speak another useless word to me before we are out of this forest I will gag you. Understand?” Neil pressed his lips together and nodded curtly. “Good. Now keep your stupid mouth shut and get your ass moving.”

He released Neil, who made a show of smoothing out his wrinkled cloak. He did manage to stay silent, but the venomous look on his face implied that Neil was thinking some horrible things about Andrew in that tiny rabbit mind of his.

 

\---------------------

 

Neil stood in the center of the loft feeling oddly hollow. All his life he had never really had a home. The estate where he was raised had always felt like a prison, and the mismatched assortment of temporary cottages and huts he had lived in while on the run were never safe or permanent enough to be considered homes. A home was a place you could return to, where you belonged.

No, Neil had never had a home.

But the tower was the closest he had ever come to one. Sure, it was lonely, but it was mostly safe, and it was his. Now, the time had come for him to leave again. After two and a half years of permanence, he found it difficult to turn his back on this place. When had he become so attached? Didn’t he know better?

Neil bent down to pick up the pack at his feet. It was filled with the usual items required for life on the run; a few spare pieces of clothing, a thin blanket, flint, some dried food and nuts, enough coin in various currencies to last him a week in various countries, false papers, a small sewing kit full of thread for mending both fabric and skin, and a flask each of alcohol and water. He also kept a short hunting knife at the bottom of the pack, though it was more of a spare than anything. His bow and dagger he kept on him at all times. 

He shouldered the pack and glanced around the room one last time, knowing he would probably never return. He took in the tall windows, the worn floors, the garden that he had cultivated and cared for. 

For some bizarre reason, Neil felt the urge to say something, and before he fully realized he was speaking, the words had already left his mouth.

“Thank you for sheltering me.” Of course there was no reply, but the ache in his chest receded and he finally found the courage to leave. He turned on his heel and went to meet Andrew where he waited at the passage.

Andrew had his arms crossed, a borrowed pack full of mostly food hanging from one shoulder. The passage was already open, and Neil wasn’t surprised that Andrew remembered which stone was the key to trigger the hidden doorway. Neil said nothing as he stepped into the darkness. He didn’t feel like humming to activate the sound crystals, so if Andrew wanted to see he could do it himself.

“Do they work if you just talk?” Andrew asked. The crystals lit up in response, though their light flickered with the tone of the words. “Won’t you sing, little rabbit?”

“Not for you, no,” Neil mumbled.

“Oh? Seems like you're in a mood.”

“You made it clear that you didn’t want me to talk.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Andrew mused. “I’m surprised you know how to listen.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Neil said it like a warning.

Andrew made a disinterested noise.

They kept on in silence, but Andrew took to stomping his feet to keep the crystals active. When they reached the trapdoor, Andrew watched Neil place his hand against the wood. 

“Why do you do that?” Andrew asked. 

“Do you actually care about the answer?”

Andrew’s smile was unfriendly. “I don’t care about anything.”

“Then be quiet and let me concentrate,” Neil snapped. Andrew raised his hands in mock surrender.

Neil turned back to the trapdoor and focused on the feeling of the wood under his fingers. Of all the strange magic Neil had stumbled upon over the years, the trees were the first discovery, and by far the most disconcerting. It was actually during his first trip to the forest, when his mother had been with him, when he had realized he could feel them. 

It was a weird sensation. They didn’t talk, it was more like he could sense things from them; their energy, their will. And their magic. Whoever had enchanted the forest must have been extremely powerful.

It had been the trees that had guided him to the tower all those years ago. He remembered how startled his mother had been when he told her the trees were communicating with him. At first she had demanded that he stop because she was afraid at what tampering with the magic would do. But when she had tried to hit him for it, the trees had moved to restrain her. He still remembered how their branches had grabbed at her wrists and ankles. Neil had to plead for them to release her.

His mother had hardly touched him for the rest of their time in the forest.

Neil shook his head to clear the memories. He could feel it now, the connection to the ancient trees. He felt the pulses of magic that travelled through the roots of the great willow tree that lay over the door, and he expressed his will for them to part so that he might climb through. The willow accepted his request easily, and Neil felt the roots move. He sent his gratitude along the connection, and opened the hatch.

He climbed up, Andrew close on his heels. Once he closed the door, the roots slithered back into place. The branches of the willow were swaying calmly, despite the lack of wind. Andrew looked at ease, but Neil knew he found it unnerving by the way he casually moved away when the branches got too close.

Neil payed him little attention, though, because the willow was calling out to him. He moved to the trunk, and placed his hand on the gnarled bark. Immediately, the willow bombarded him with images of himself throughout the years; sometimes climbing out of the trapdoor, sometimes laying on the thick branches at the top of the tree. He felt the willow’s magic embrace him, and Neil realized that it was telling him goodbye. He didn’t know how the tree knew that he was leaving for good, but now was not the time to question the magic.

Moved beyond words, Neil sent his own feelings and thoughts to it. He expressed how thankful he was for its help, and for acting as a guard to the entrance of the tower. The willow seemed to sigh, and Neil felt several drooping branches brush against his face.

Then the connection faded, and the three was still again.

Neil removed his hand slowly, and swallowed the feeling of loss.

When he turned around, Andrew was staring at him with surprisingly obvious curiosity. He snapped out of it quickly enough, the usual blank expression falling back into place, but Neil had seen the emotion as clear as day.

“Shall we?” Neil motioned with an outstretched hand which direction Andrew should walk. Without so much as a blink, he started moving. 

They hiked quietly, their silence made heavier by the encompassing quiet of the forest. Every so often, Neil would pause to consult a tree on their position, and he would correct their course accordingly. At their pace, they should reach Exy Pass after midnight. 

It was an hour of walking before Andrew spoke. 

“Where is your pet bird?”

Neil was surprised by the question. Andrew wasn't the type for small talk, clearly, so why bother with the mundane question?

“Stop overthinking, I’m just bored,” Andrew said blandly. Neil wasn’t convinced.

“Is this part of our question game?” Neil asked.

“Obviously.”

“I wasn’t aware it would be an ongoing thing.”

“Too many secrets to hide?”

Neil glared.

“We’ll play your game. I have questions for you too, after all,” Neil said. “Striker is around. He’ll come if I call.” Neil paused, “And he’s not my pet.”

Andrew’s raised eyebrow said he didn’t buy it.

“How many knives do you have on you?” Neil asked.

Andrew cocked his head. “Guess.”

“That’s not how the game works.” Neil argued. Andrew ignored him. “Fine. I guess five.”

“Six,” Andrew stated, “It was seven but I lost one this morning.” 

Neil wanted to ask why Andrew had so many. It was common for people to carry around some sort of weapon. It would be stupid not to, especially if you travelled often. Bandits and thieves were plenty, no matter the country. But seven hidden knives raised a few questions. 

“What’s with that thing you do with the trees?” Andrew asked, without looking at him.

“Back to this are we?” Neil quipped. “If I say ‘magic’ will you stab me with one of your six knives?”

“I’m considering it.”

Neil couldn’t help the amused sort that slipped out.

“I don’t know how it works exactly,” Neil began. His mind screamed at him to lie and brush off the question. Andrew was too unpredictable to be trusted with this information. But Neil was already trusting him; to keep him safe, to not betray him. He might as well trust him with his secrets too, or at least some of them. After all, he had promised to tell the truth, and Neil kept his promises.

“I can hear them, in my head. Feel them communicate with me. Its stronger when I touch them. They hold all the magic of the forest. They’re the ones that keep people in. I don’t know why they choose to speak to me. Maybe because I’ve been here for so long? They haven’t reached out to you, have they?”

Neil meant it as a joke, but the flick of Andrew’s gaze made Neil stumble.

“Wait,  _ did  _ they?”

Up until that moment Neil’s theory was that the trees could communicate with him because of the magic in his hair. Both magics were plant-based so it made sense. But maybe he was wrong?

“I didn’t hear any trees in my head,” Andrew denied. “But when I was wandering around, I’m pretty sure the willow by the tower messed with me.”

“Explain.”

Andrew glared.

“I would have walked past it. Almost did. But there was this weird wind that only moved the willow branches. Before I knew it I was walking towards it. That’s how I found the tower.”

Neil was freaked out by Andrew’s story. Had the willow purposely led Andrew to the tower? If so, why? Neil had half a mind to go back and ask the damn thing, but Andrew’s hand in his face stopped him.

“What is it? You have a wild look in your eyes.”

“I-I don’t know. Nothing like what you said has ever happened before.”  _ Not even to my mother,  _ Neil didn’t say.

Andrew grunted. “Don’t worry about that shit now. Focus on getting us out of here.”

“Right, yeah. Ok.”

There were no more questions after that, both of them too lost in their thoughts to keep up a conversation. The rest of the journey passed uneventfully. Striker made an appearance to check in on Neil and have a short rest on his shoulder. Despite learning to fly and fend for himself, Striker had developed an attachment to Neil. It was unintentional on Neil’s part, he hadn’t meant to form such a relationship with him. But despite his best efforts to separate himself from the hawk, Striker always managed to track him down again. Eventually, Neil had accepted the fact that Striker wanted to stay with him. They had formed a bond, and Neil had started to train Striker. If he was going to stick around, he needed to be able to follow commands and not give away Neil’s position. After months of trial and error, Neil had developed an effective whistle command system. 

Now, Striker was probably the smartest, deadliest hawk to ever fly the skies.

He was also Neil’s only friend. 

Finally, at just after midnight, they could see the treeline. Andrew’s pace quickened, but Neil felt himself grow anxious. Every step he took brought him closer to danger. The forest had been safe for him, but out there, he would once again be hunted like a boar at a hunting party. He imagined his father bearing down on him from atop his war horse, Lola and the other enforcers would be the bloodhounds nipping at his ankles.

The image froze him to the spot, cramped his muscles so that he couldn’t move. His heart pounded frantically, like a rabbit caught in a snare. Andrew was right about him. He was nothing but prey, so scared to venture out of his burrow that he willingly isolated himself from the world. Life on the run had been exhausting and terrifying. Life in the tower was safe but hardly a life at all. Still, no matter how pathetic these lives had been, he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away.

He didn’t want to die.

Neil didn’t realize that he was not breathing until Andrew slammed his palm between his shoulder blades. Neil fell to his knees and gasped. A hand fit itself into the space of his hood and under his braid to rest firmly on the back of his neck. The pressure was grounding, and the haze of fear around Neil’s mind cleared enough for him to hear Andrew’s voice.

It was passionless and apathetic, but left no room for argument as it told Neil to breathe. Neil could do nothing but listen. Slowly, he pushed air into his paralyzed lungs.

He breathed.

Neil lifted his head and all he could see was Andrew. He was inches away from Neil’s face, expression blank as if Neil didn’t just have a breakdown in front of him. 

Once Andrew saw that Neil was breathing and aware of where he was, Andrew backed out of his space. It was then that Neil noticed the trees. The ones closest to him had bent forward, branches reaching for him. They looked like concerned bystanders, hoverying and unsure of what to do. Neil was shocked that they hadn’t attacked Andrew for touching him while he was crouched down and appeared to be in pain.

Andrew noticed them too, and he gave Neil a look as if to say ‘this is your fault.’

Neil sighed and stood up. As if it were a cue, the trees bent back into their original shape.

“Are you done with your mental breakdown?”

“Fuck you.”

Neil looked at the treeline and felt sick. Andrew snapped his fingers to grab Neil’s attention. His gaze was the most intense Neil had ever seen it. It burned with conviction and promise, searing away any doubt Neil had within him.

“I will protect you,” Andrew said.

And in that moment, Neil believed him.

They walked to the edge of the forest together, and Andrew was there to watch as Neil took a step past the treeline. It felt like falling off a cliff and into the ocean. It felt like being on a ship during a storm. It felt like sneaking out of a kingdom with the entire army giving chase.

It felt like change.

Andrew watched as Neil left his life behind to pursue a new one.

He was there when Neil turned to leave behind the forest, and its secret tower, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope this chapter was a little more exciting? Tune in next time for a reunion with the monsters!  
> Tumblr: @c-dragon-pirates or @thefoxycourt


	5. If He's Lying, Don't Come Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Managed to post this before college starts up again, yay. I promised you all a map at some point and I actually finished that too!! Now you have a visual aid to keep track of places, woohoo! You can find it [ here ](https://c-dragon-art.tumblr.com/post/177492181918/a-map-for-my-fanfic-what-once-was-mine-its-a)  
> I feel like there's alot of talking in this chapter too but I promise they'll get less boring soon.

Neil followed Andrew as he lead the way through the knee-high grass that covered the majority of Exy Pass. They’d exited the forest a few miles away from the Palmetto border but it shouldn’t take them long to walk the rest of the remaining distance. Andrew made no attempts at conversation, nor did he start another round of their odd question game. That suited Neil just fine.

He occupied himself by listening to the sounds of the world around him. Even with the silence between him and Andrew, Neil could hardly classify the night as quiet. The Forest of the Lost was never filled with the ambient sounds of life; it was always unnaturally silent. Neil had forgotten just how noisy the world could be. 

All around him the tall grass whispered as the cool breeze set the blades dancing. Crickets, though unseen, announced their presence with their whistle-like calls. To his left, beyond the wide field of the pass and below sharp cliffs, Neil could just make out the sound of crashing waves. Even though his mother had died years ago, the thought of the ocean still made him uneasy. He would have to get over his fear if he ever intended to get off the continent, but for the time being he kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead.

When at last the end of the pass came into view, Andrew motioned for Neil to crouch down. They slowly made their way forward, wary of any lingering soldiers. 

“This is where I entered,” Andrew murmured as he came to a stop near the edge of the forest. He looked through the gaps in the grass, trying to spot signs of a campsite. Neil left it to Andrew and kept watch the way they’d came. The last thing he needed was inbound Ravenel soldiers ambushing them from behind.

“It’s clear. Nothing but a couple of horses,” Andrew said.

They stopped crouching and made their way to where two Ravenel army horses were tied to a bush. They must have belonged to the soldiers that were in the forest. The grass around them was heavily trampled, and the shape of boot prints were mixed amongst the hooves. 

“There were more earlier. Let’s hurry up and go before the rest of the patrol come back.”

Neil followed the suggestion without complaint. The horses were aware of Neil and Andrew at this point, and they watched as Neil slowly inched towards them. He kept his hands in front of him and his posture relaxed, trying to appear non threatening. These were trained war horses, and if Neil spooked them, he had no doubt they would choose to kick him instead of retreating like other horses might.

“What the hell are you doing?” Andrew asked, when Neil started cooing at the one closest to him. It was huge; not as tall as the wild breed that populated the continent, but it made up for its height with how stocky it was. It looked more like a bull than a horse. What did the army feed them in Ravenel?

“I’m trying not to scare it, obviously. These things are bred for the battlefield and are disciplined from birth. You think they’ll let just anyone ride them?” Neil replied. He glanced over to find Andrew hadn’t moved an inch. He seemed distracted, and kept looking at the sloping hills that rested a couple hundred yards in front of them. Neil felt himself tense, ready for danger. “What is it? Do you see something?”

“I left my ride there,” Andrew stated tonelessly. 

“Your ride? Oh, you have a horse?”

Andrew looked at Neil like the answer was obvious.

“Why don’t you just call it?” Neil asked. He relaxed his body again and took another step towards the chestnut horse in front of him. He outstretched a hand, but paused when the horse’s ears flicked back with unease. He started cooing again to try to calm it.

“Call her how?” Andrew mocked, “What did you want me to do, whistle for her like you do with your poultry?”

Neil didn’t understand why Andrew made it sound ridiculous.

“You could, though I meant maybe just call her name?”

Andrew looked like Neil had just suggested he should eat dirt. “She doesn’t have a name.”

Neil felt like he should be surprised, but he seemed to already be accustomed to Andrew’s indecency. “Why the fuck not?”

“It’s just a horse.”

Neil fought to keep the bite out of his words, for the sake of the animal he was trying to befriend, not to spare Andrew’s feelings. If he even had any. “A horse that you form a bond with as it’s owner and rider.”

“I don’t care about that crap,” Andrew drawled.

“Right, sure. That’s why you’re looking at those hills like a maiden waiting for her sailor to return to her after a storm at sea.” Neil was definitely exaggerating; Andrew’s expression remained infuriatingly blank, but he knew the words would annoy him.

“Fuck off. That horse is nothing more than an investment I intend to have returned to me,” Andrew said cooly.

“Harsh. You don’t deserve such a beautiful creature.” While speaking to Andrew, Neil had crept closer to the chestnut horse, and finally he managed to place his palm on the beast’s wide nose. The horse’s breath was warm and damp against his skin, and he smiled at the small thrill of accomplishment. 

“You don’t even know what she looks like,” Andrew said.

Neil patted the horse’s muzzle, “Black as ink, all leg, and fast as an arrow?”

Andrew blinked, “How--”

“She’s behind you. Crested the hill around the time you mentioned she was nameless.” Andrew turned to watch his horse canter towards him. She came to a stop right in front of him, her black coat making her appear as though she were nothing more than a shadow in the night. “Awfully loyal of her to wait half a day for you to come back. Never seen a mere investment do that before.”

Andrew glared at him. Neil smiled, wide and sharp, because it felt like a victory.

As Andrew checked his personal belongings that were strapped to his nameless mare, Neil set about cutting loose the Ravenel colours that were draped over the back of the army horse. No way was he about to ride through Palmetto on a horse sporting red and black. Once he was done, he untied the tether and led his mount to where Andrew waited, already seated in his saddle.

“Don't fall behind,” was all Andrew said before he kicked his heel into his horse’s side. Neil watched Andrew lead the mare into a gallop in a matter of seconds, his easy handle of her showing months of dedicated training and built up trust despite Andrews dismissive words.

Hoisting himself onto the warhorse, Neil tried to remember all his lessons on riding. Though he and his mother had travelled long distances while on the run, they rarely ever did so on horseback. Sure, it would have been faster, but horses were limited by terrain. Often times, his mother would choose routes that involved wading through rivers and marshes, or hiking through stony mountain paths to avoid main roads and popular peddler trails.

Needless to say, it had been awhile since he rode. But Andrew had told him to keep up and Neil wouldn't put it past him to actually leave him behind. He took a deep breath, clutched the reins in his hands, and nudged his heels into the horse’s sides. 

And suddenly Neil remembered why he used to love this. As he galloped after Andrew, he let himself find enjoyment in the ride. He liked the sound of the horse’s hooves as they pounded over the grass, the feel of the wind ripping at his cloak, the way the countryside blurred as they rode hard into the night.

Neil couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face. This wasn't freedom, not by a long shot, but after years cramped in a forest, Neil would take what he could get.

He caught up to Andrew and together they set a steady pace through the countryside. Even with the speed of the horses, it still took them another two hours to reach their destination. Andrew hadn't deemed it necessary to enlighten Neil on where exactly that was. When Neil noticed they had begun to pass through farmland, he assumed they were getting close. He was proven correct when Andrew led them onto oa wide dirt road. It did a lot of snaking; through hills and wheat fields, but at its end Neil could see a cluster of buildings.

As they drew near, Neil became aware of just how many buildings there were. At first he thought they were approaching a town, but it was actually more of a small city. Neil could just make out the painted white letters on a roadside sign that welcomed travellers to Columbia.

Soon the dirt road turned to cobblestone and they had to slow the horses to navigate the narrow streets. The city was quiet for the most part, its residents either fast asleep or too deep in their cups to cause a ruckus. Neil was grateful for the lack of people, still anxious about being noticed.

He wanted to be on a ship as soon as possible. When he was off the continent he might be able to relax.

Neil frowned. He didn’t remember seeing any bodies of water or canals as they approached the city. Come to think of it, Andrew had been leading them east since they left Exy pass, but the ocean was on the west coast. Neil's pulse jerked nervously. He guided his horse to walk alongside Andrew’s.

“This isn't a port town,” Neil hissed.

“An astute observation. Your point?” Andrew asked without looking at him.

“You said you'd take me to a ship!”

“So I did.” Andrew turned down a side street. It led to a wide square lined with  massive buildings. Some of them looked like standard bars, but Neil swore the large black building with red trim around its numerous windows was a less than upstanding establishment. Neil's cheeks flushed with the thought of what went on in the rooms behind those heavy velvet curtains.

Andrew did not head towards the pleasure house, and Neil let out a relieved breath. Their destination was a nondescript building nestled between a pub and an inn. It was plain looking and only had two stories, but it was large and made of thick looking brick. There were no windows, and the door looked metallic and heavy. Strangely, it had no handle that Neil could see. The sign above the door read ‘ _ Eden's Twilight’  _ in flowing gold letters.

“Why did you bring me here then?” Neil demanded. He said it harshly, but kept his voice low. He didn’t want to attract the attention of the few people loitering around. There was a man smoking a pipe next to the door of Eden’s Twilight, and Neil was sure he was watching them. “Did you lie to me?”

“Calm down, Rabbit. I'll get you to your ship. I told you I had people waiting for me and this is where we pick them up.”

Neil was only slightly mollified.

He watched Andrew swing off his horse, surprisingly graceful for someone his size. He approached the man with the pipe and said a few words that Neil couldn't catch. The man nodded and banged a fist on the door. It opened to reveal a bulky, unsmiling man. He saw Andrew and stepped aside immediately. Andrew looked back at Neil and jerked his head towards the door. Neil bristled at being beckoned like a dog, but he dismounted and stalked over. Andrew raised an eyebrow at Neil's discontent expression.

“What?” Neil snapped. 

“We're going inside. Riley will take care of the horses, so grab your things and lets go.”

“You couldn't have said that in the first place?” 

The man at the door snorted as Neil stomped back to the warhorse and unfastened his pack from the saddle. He followed Andrew inside and tried not to panic at the sound of the heavy door slamming shut.

The inside of the building was not what Neil expected. The decor was definitely more flashy than the outside of the building. Andrew and Neil stood in a wide entryway covered in plush, expensive looking rugs. Above them hung an impressive chandelier of twisting black metal and countless burning candles. The entryway was separated from the room beyond by a wall of glass tiles, coloured in shades of deep blue and purple. The low candlelight was reflected off the surface and the wall seemed to glow from within. 

Andrew walked around the wall, completely uncaring of the muddy boot prints he was leaving on the fancy rugs. Neil had the common courtesy to wipe his boots briefly on the provided doormat before hurrying after Andrew. He rounded the wall and immediately froze. The main room was huge and unlike anything Neil had ever seen.

Black stained wood flooring covered the majority of the space, save the bar area, which was tiled with speckled black and blue marble. The bar itself looked to be made of silver, though neil doubted that was actually the case. There were a few tables scattered about, but none of them had any charis. Neil assumed that the tall, slim ones were meant to be stood around while drinking; the others were low, like the tables one would expect to find in a parlour when receiving guests. These were surrounded by long velvet couches the colour of wine. The entire space was sparsely lit, just a few candles placed at key intervals around the room. It smelled heavily of tobacco and something sweet Neil couldn’t place.

There was only one other person in the room, and he stood behind the bar speaking to Andrew with a smile on his face. Neil wondered how anyone could be happy in Andrew’s presence. 

Neil approached them, his ingrained mistrust of people making him cautious. The stranger was in the middle of pouring Andrew a glass of amber liquid when he finally noticed Neil. The man’s grey eyes widened for a split second before they flicked to Andrew.

“You didn’t tell me you had company,” he scolded, before turning his white smile on Neil. “And who might you be, darling?”

“Shouldn’t you give your own name before asking mine?” Neil said before he could think better of it. The man didn’t seem offended though; he simply threw his head back and laughed.

“Where have I heard those words before? Pardon my manners, but it's not everyday someone looking like you comes into my club.”

Neil didn’t know what he meant by that. Was something about his clothing strange? Could he have caught a glimpse of Neil’s hair? He tugged at his hood to make sure it was still in place.

The man offered a tan hand and friendly smile, “My name’s Roland, I’m the owner here.”

“Neil.”

He didn’t want to touch Roland, but Andrew was watching him from over the rim of his glass, his eyes silently mocking Neil’s discomfort. Neil grit his teeth and took Roland’s hand. He did not expect for Roland to pull his hand over the bar and place a quick kiss on his knuckles. Neil jumped and snatched his hand away while Roland chuckled at Neil’s affronted expression.

“He’s cute, where did you find him?” Roland asked Andrew. His amusement died when he noticed the dark look on Andrew’s face. “Whoops, seems like I overstepped.”

“My group?” Andrew growled.

Roland cleared his throat. “They’re in room four.”

Without another word, Andrew grabbed Neil’s wrist and led him back to the entryway and down a short hallway Neil hadn’t noticed before. He was supposed to notice these things, and he felt phantom pain in his arms where his mother would have punished him for his failure. Suddenly the touch was too much.

“Let me go,” Neil rasped, and to his surprise, Andrew dropped his hold instantly. Neil retreated a few steps to put some distance between them. Andrew noted the movement but said nothing. At the end of the hallway was a staircase that led to both the upper floor and what Neil assumed was a basement. Neil didn’t do well in basements, and he only moved when Andrew headed for the second floor. 

It turned out there were only four rooms on this floor, and Andrew made a beeline for the furthest one. Neil shadowed him, suddenly nervous and unsure of what to expect from the people beyond the door. They were obviously important to Andrew, but that hardly put Neil at ease. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any trouble.

Andrew knocked on the door and there was a beat of silence before the sound of shuffling feet. The door opened to reveal a tall, dark-skinned man with curly brown hair. His cautious eyes lit up with relief at the sight of Andrew.

“Oh thank fuck you’re okay!” he exclaimed. “What the hell happened to you, Andrew?”

“Inside,” Andrew said.

But the man in the door ignored him, too busy gaping at Neil to pay proper attention to Andrew’s command.

“Uhh, what do you have there?” he said, as if Neil was a rodent the family cat had dropped on it’s owner’s doorstep. An unexpected and unwanted surprise.

“Move, Nicky.” Andrew shouldered past him without waiting this time, and Neil quickly followed so as not to be left out in the hall. Nicky closed the door behind them and moved to stand with the other two men in the room.

He only had a moment to register the fact that there was suddenly two Andrews, before he came face to face with Kevin Day.

It had been ten fucking years since Neil had last seen Kevin. He had grown; the lanky squire boy of Neil’s memory was gone, replaced by this towering man in front of him. He still had the tattoo, a bold, black ‘2’ inked on his right cheekbone. 

But despite the years of absence, it took Neil less than a second to note the non-physical changes of his childhood companion.

In Neil’s memory, Kevin was a confident, ambitious boy who was never seen without a sword at his hip. He was amazing with the weapon, skilled beyond his years, and one of the best swordsmen of their generation, second only to Riko. He walked with pride and self-assurance, because even at ten years old, he knew he was fated for greatness. 

The Kevin that stood only feet away was a stranger. His posture was hunched, his once bright eyes turned flighty and scared. Worst of all was that he was unarmed. Kevin without a sword was just  _ wrong. _

Neil didn’t notice that he had gone unnaturally still until fingers snapped in front of his face. He blinked, let out the breath that had been caught in his lungs since he had stepped into the room. But that was all he could manage. His body was frozen, muscles clenched so tight he felt them aching. 

Andrew stepped in front of him, cutting off Neil’s line of sight to Kevin. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him,” someone said from beyond Andrew. The words were muted, as if Neil was hearing them while submerged in water. 

This couldn’t be happening. Kevin being here was too big of a coincidence. There had to be some sort of underlying plot at work. Was this the work of his father? Was Kevin on a mission to hunt Neil down as well? 

Impossible. Kevin never went anywhere without Riko. 

Neil gasped and stumbled backward at the thought. His back hit the door and he glanced around the room hastily, convinced that Riko was hiding in the shadows. Fuck, how was so stupid.

He never should have trusted Andrew.

“Neil,” Andrew snapped. There was a hand around his collar, shaking him roughly.

No. Nononono.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Andrew demanded, because Neil was in a panic and must have said the words out loud.

But Neil was done answering Andrew’s questions. He’d warned Andrew not to back him into a corner. His survival instincts cut through his meltdown and Neil’s body sharpened. He snatched Andrew’s wrist and twisted it violently, and it released him. Andrew stepped back in surprise, and Neil took the opportunity to drive his palm right into Andrew’s solar plexus. Andrew grunted and glared at Neil, his eyes burning with anger.

Neil wasn’t about to go toe-to-toe with Andrew, especially when there were three other people to back him up. In the second Andrew took to recover from the hit, Neil had the door open and was sprinting down the hall. He flew down the stairs, jumping the last few in his haste to reach the door. He heard the thundering of pursuing footsteps and chanced a look over his shoulder. The stairs were still clear, Neil’s speed not something to underestimate.

He turned back to the door in time to see a fist swing at his face. Then his mind went black.

***********

Andrew made it to the bottom of the stairs in time to see Riley bend down over an unconscious Neil.

“I may have broken his nose,” Riley said apologetically. 

“Fucking good. Little shit deserves it.”

“Want me to toss him out?”

Andrew gave the offer serious consideration. Neil was a loose canon, a downright  _ mess _ . Andrew’s chest throbbed where Neil had struck him. He knew Neil talked big, but up until now he believed that he could handle any tricks the rabbit tried to pull. This had been a close call. If not for Riley, Neil might have made it through the door and disappeared without a trace.

Well, message received. He was done underestimating Neil Josten.

“No. Put him in a room and tie him up,” Andrew paused, and after a moment’s thought, added, “and lock the door too. Give me the key when you’re done. I have shit to figure out before I deal with him.”

Riley nodded and picked Neil up, throwing the small man over his shoulder. Neil hung limply, expression troubled even while unconcious, a trail of blood dripping from his nose. 

As Andrew made his way back to the room, he tried to piece together what set Neil off. He was fine after the stunt Roland pulled―definitely uncomfortable and twitchy, but fine. He wasn’t alarmed when Nicky opened the door either. He panicked once he was insided…

Once he noticed Kevin.

Andrew threw open the door to room four, startling everyone inside. Aaron was the first to recover, and the first to lay into Andrew.

“What the fuck was that all about? Who was that guy? And where the hell have you been?” he demanded. Andrew remained unmoved by his tone.

“You sound concerned.”

“Of course I’m bloody  _ concerned. _ ”

“Well get over it. I’m here aren’t I?” Andrew said. “Nicky, any trouble?”

Nicky shook his head, “No one stopped us on the way here, and we told Roland to cover for us if anyone came looking.”

“Did you send word to Renee?”

“No, you said to wait until morning.”

Satisfied that nothing happened to his group in his absence, Andrew was able to calm the part of his mind that had been filled with urgency since they separated. He went to sit at the single wingback chair by the fireplace. As if it were a cue, Kevin, Nicky and Aaron also sat themselves around the room; Nicky and Aaron perched on the edge of the large bed, and kevin in the wooden chair by the desk.

“What did you find out, Andrew?” Kevin asked, voice trembling.

Andrew debated on how much to tell them about the Moriyamas....and about Neil.

“I tracked the soldiers to Exy Pass,” Andrew began. “I overheard them talking about a manhunt. Apparently they’re searching for a couple of thieves who stole from the king.”

Kevin sighed, “so they aren’t here for me.”

“Not everything is about you, Day.”

Kevin glared, but his relief kept him from rising at the jab. 

“That doesn’t explain why you took so long,” Aaron said, clearly unable to let shit go. Oh well, Andrew supposed he had to give some sort of explanation for the dramatic scene they just witnessed. 

“Does the name ‘Neil Josten’ mean anything to you?” Andrew asked Kevin.

Confused, Kevin shook his head. Interesting.

“He’s who you met five minutes ago. I ran into trouble with the soldiers. Josten agreed to help take care of it if I did something for him in return.” Not the whole truth, but it was all Andrew was willing to give at this point. “We have a deal.”

The three men exchanged a look. They knew what it meant when Andrew made a deal.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Nicky hedged. “He seemed a little…”

“Insane?” Aaron supplied drily.

“I was going to say ‘distressed’.” 

“I’ll handle it,” Andrew said, his tone final. “Nicky, have Roland send a message to Wymack telling him we’ll be back in the evening. The last thing we need is him sending out the cavalry to search for us.”

“We’d never hear the end of it from that bastard seth,” Aaron grumbled.

“I don’t care what you do in the meantime, but be ready to leave by noon,” Andrew said as he stood.

“Where are you going?” Kevin asked.

Andrew ignored him and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Truthfully, all he wanted to do was eat and then pass out, the events of the day taking their toll on his body. His legs hurt from hours of walking and riding, his arms and back were even worse off.

Stupid fucking tower.

He couldn’t rest until he sorted shit out with Neil, though. Andrew did not have the time to babysit Kevin  _ and  _ micromanage all of Neil’s problems. 

Riley stepped out of the room opposite him just as Andrew was about to start looking for him. He tossed a keyring to Andrew, who caught it effortlessly.

“He’s still out. You may have to wait a while for him to wake.”

“Your right hook is nothing to scoff at,” Andrew said mildly. Riley snickered.

“You’d know.” He inclined his head towards the stairs and together they made their way back to the bar. They didn’t talk much, but the silence wasn’t strained. Though he wouldn’t consider Riley―or any of the guys here―a friend, he’d known him for years. They’d worked together back when Andrew was still living in this city, and even now he knew Riley had his back. You didn’t fuck with the people who worked at Eden’s, past or present. 

They sat at the bar and nursed their respective drinks. Roland popped in to put a plate of bread and leftover roast in front of them. Andrew raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but Roland just put his hands up and made some excuse that he’d be a horrible host if he didn’t offer Andrew a bite while he was there. Andrew didn’t call him out on it. He knew he must look worn down, despite his efforts to hide the fact.

That was the trouble when people knew you long enough. Though, Roland was probably the only one who fell in that category. Possibly Renee as well. 

When he finished eating, Andrew went outside for a brief, but needed, smoke. Riley kept him company, smoking his favourite pipe. Andrew hated the things. He preferred to roll his tobacco. 

Andrew stared at the clouded sky, dark still, but only a few hours away from dawn. Movement on the roof of the adjacent inn caught his attention, and he tensed before making out the silhouette of a bird. It was Neil’s damn hawk, still nearby despite the vast distance they had travelled. How the hell Neil trained it to be so loyal, Andrew had no clue.

Andrew ground the end of his cig into the brick wall he was leaning against, and Riley clicked his teeth in annoyance. He hated when Andrew did that, which was why he continued to do so. Without a word, Andrew went back into the club. Perhaps the rabbit had finally woken up.

Outside Neil’s door, Andrew listened for any signs of movement. He heard none, so he slotted the iron key into the lock and turned it with a click. Last time he opened the door to a dark room he’d been greeted with a frying pan to the face. This time Neil wasn’t so lucky to get the jump on him.

Neil was awake, his bright blue eyes vibrant even in the darkness of the room. Riley had lit a single candle and left it on the desk, but it provided enough light to frame Neil’s furious figure. He was sitting on the bed, wrists tied behind his back, hood no longer over his head. His golden hair was pulled tightly against his skull, and Andrew could just make out the beginning of a braid at the nape of his neck before it disappeared below his cloak.

Neil’s glare didn’t phase Andrew. He pulled the chair out from the desk and spun it around so that he was sitting on it backwards.

“Let’s play another round.”

Neil laughed humorlessly.

“Like I’m going to answer any more of your questions you  _ liar, _ ” he spat. Andrew cocked his head.

“Of the two of us, I am not the liar,” Andrew said, patience growing thin. “Whatever you think I’ve lied about, I assure you that you’re wrong. Stop imagining useless scenarios, and tell me why you lost your shit at the sight of Kevin.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Noted, but irrelevant.”

Neil squirmed in his restraints. “Answer my question first.”

Andrew flicked his hand for Neil to continue. He bit his lip, and Andrew’s eyes were drawn to the action. 

“Are you working for Prince Riko?”

Of all the fucked up insinuations Andrew had been subjected to throughout his life, this one actually managed to annoy him. There was no way he would ever take an order from that idiotic, childish, entitled asshole.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Kevin never leaves Riko’s side,” Neil said, and Andrew didn’t miss how Neil dropped Riko’s title. “That means Riko has to be nearby. And he doesn’t take orders from anyone, ever. Which means if you’re with Kevin then by association, you’re working under them.”

Andrew almost laughed at the idea of Kevin telling him what to do.

“So just tell Riko that you’ve caught me and get it over with,” Neil finished.

Neil dropped his eyes to the floor, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He looked completely worn down and hopeless. His entire demeanor irked Andrew. He much preferred it when Neil was boldly spewing insults, or snickering at Andrew like back in the underground passageway beneath the tower.

“You’re an idiot.”

“So you keep telling me,” Neil grumbled.

“Kevin broke away from Riko. They had a little  _ falling out  _ a year ago. He’s been under my protection since then. I made him a deal, same as you,” Andrew said.

Neil looked at him with disbelieving eyes. “That’s impossible. Riko wouldn’t just let him go.”

“Keep up, Neil, I’m protecting him.”

“You?” Neil asked incredulously. “Who the hell are you to stand up to Riko?”

“You overestimate him.”

“I really don’t! You don’t know what he’s like―”

“And you do?” Andrew interrupted. Neil snapped his mouth closed so quickly that Andrew heard his teeth click. “Tell me, how does a supposed thief know what Prince Riko Moriyama is like?”

Neil wore that look again; frightened and guilty and bracing for a reprimand, like he said something he shouldn’t have.

“Are  _ you  _ working for Riko?” Andrew echoed. Neil’s reply came with no hesitation.

“I’d rather throw myself off a cliff.”

Andrew made a thoughtful sound. Though Neil’s reaction to Kevin― and the way he spoke about Riko like he knew him―was suspicious, Andrew didn’t actually believe that Neil was another agent sent to threaten Kevin back to Ravenel. No, there was something else going on with Neil. Andrew had to fight down the urge to force the truth out of him, to make Neil spill every dangerous secret he was hiding.

“I haven’t broken my deal with Kevin, and I won’t break ours. But I need to know that you can behave while in his presence. Tell me, is Kevin being here going to be a problem?”

“...No,” Neil whispered after a lengthy pause, “I can handle it.”

“How do you know him? This is me taking a round, so stop evading.”

Neil pursed his lips. Andrew watched him closely, trying to determine if the next words out of Neil’s mouth would be lies.

“My father’s business required him to take frequent trips to Castle Evermore,” Neil began. He seemed to force the words past his frowning lips. They dripped with resentment, and fell heavy into the silence. “As a boy, he would sometimes bring me along to observe and learn. I was his heir after all.”

Neil’s gaze was distant, stuck somewhere in the past.

“I met Riko and Kevin by chance during one of those trips. From then on we continued to run into each other, and sometimes I was allowed to play with them. But we weren’t friends, my status was too low to permit such a relationship.”

“Still,” Neil said, blinking away the far off look in his eyes, “those short meetings taught me all I needed to know about their personalities. I doubt they’ve changed since then.”

Andrew absorbed the new information passively. Neil’s explanation was conspicuously vague and left Andrew with new questions; about Neil’s family business and his previous status. So far he knew that Neil was being hunted by the Moriyamas because of supposed theft. If he had access to Castle Evermore like he claimed, it was possible that Neil could have stolen from under their noses. But something about the timeline didn’t add up.

Neil hadn’t know about Kevin’s escape from Riko. 

Andrew had made his deal with Kevin over a year ago. Just now, Neil made it sound like he hadn’t even seen Kevin since childhood. The fact that Kevin didn’t recognize Neil was interesting as well. Then again, Kevin had the annoying habit of forgetting anyone that he deemed beneath him or not worth his time. But if Kevin hadn’t recognized Neil because it had been years since their last ‘playdate’, then it was possible Neil had disappeared from his life while they were still young. If that was true then Neil must have stolen the heirloom a decade ago.

Andrew found it hard to believe that a mere child could get away with such a heist. And if the crime was committed so long ago, why were the soldiers only looking for him now? Something wasn’t adding up, but though Andrew itched to solve such a mystery, it wasn’t part of his deal.

He’d drop the subject for now. 

“If I untie you are you going freak out and punch me again?” Andrew asked.

Neil flushed, expression shifting between embarrassment and defiance.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” 

Andrew stood from the chair and pulled a knife from his armband. Neil tensed up immediately, eyes tracking the blade wearily. 

“Turn around,” Andrew said impatiently. Neil clenched his jaw and slowly shifted so that he sat with his back facing Andrew. His shoulders were rigid and his bound hands trembled minutely. He knew it must be torture for Neil to be in such a vulnerable position, which is why he took his time cutting away the ropes. Andrew didn’t want Neil’s apology, but that didn’t mean he was over Neil’s little display of violence. 

“Would you get on with it?” Neil snapped, voice strained.

Andrew cut through the last of the rope and Neil snatched his hands away and rolled along the bed until he had his back to the wall. He rubbed at his wrists and cut a vicious glare at Andrew.

“You can sleep here, but I will be locking the door,” Andrew informed him. “If you need to take a piss, or wash the blood from your nose, now’s the time.”

Neil showed Andrew both middle fingers, but he got off the bed and stomped to the door. 

“Try not to punch anyone else on your way to the latrine,” Andrew called after him.

Neil’s response was so loud and vulgar that Nicky opened the door across the hall just to give Andrew a wide-eyed, slightly impressed look.

“He’s got quite the mouth on him.”

_ Don’t remind me _ , Andrew thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe a day still hasn't passed in this fic? God who's writing this haha...  
> ANYWAY thanks for reading!
> 
> Next time: Neil finally makes it to a goddamn boat.


End file.
